Triple Threat
by TheUltimateGleek123
Summary: Quinn Fabray is pregnant again. She visits the guidance counselor daily to help her get through it. Quinn's biggest problem? There are three possible fathers, and Quinn isn't sure who's the true baby daddy.
1. Guidance

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**Name: Triple Threat  
Author: TheUltimateGleek123 (The one and only!)  
Summary: Quinn Fabray is pregnant again. She visits the guidance counselor daily to help her get through it. Quinn's biggest problem? The baby has three possible fathers, and Quinn isn't sure which one is the true baby daddy.  
Rating: T for language, and also a few "suggestive flashbacks," I guess you could say.  
Pairings: Quick [Quinn/Puck], Fuinn [Quinn/Finn], Quill [Quinn/Will], Wemma [Will/Emma].**

******Author's Note****: I know I haven't yet finished Highway to Hell; I'm getting there! I'm not going to stop writing that one, but I thought I could try something else. If you don't like it, I'll just go right back to Highway to Hell, though it doesn't seem like many people are reading that, anyway.**

This first chapter is really short; it's kind of introducing everything.

**Enjoy and review! :D**

* * *

"Miss Pillsbury?"

The guidance counselor looked up when I said her name. She stared at me with wide, honey brown eyes. Her red-orange hair was fixed in its perky bob, as it always was. She wore a yellow-and-pink flowered skirt and a bright yellow blouse with a large bow across the chest. She motioned for me to come into her room. I did just that, and I closed the door behind me. I sat down on one of the chairs in front of Miss Pillsbury's desk and smoothed out my short red-and-white polyester skirt.

After I had Beth and the new school year started, Miss Sylvester had been in need of new Cheerios. As soon as I'd walked in, she told me to get out, but after a little bit of persuasion and an amazing tryout, she agreed to let me back on the squad. I was so close to becoming head Cheerio again, but Santana wasn't far behind.

I wasn't going to be a Cheerio for much longer, though.

"What can I help you with, Quinn?" Miss Pillsbury smiled, folding her hands atop her desk.

I took a deep breath. "Basically, I need some guidance."

"Well, you've come to the right place, then," Miss Pillsbury said, still smiling.

I nodded slowly. "You see, I've been feeling really sick lately, and I started gaining a few pounds. I've had this happen before and I got really curious. So I took a pregnancy test, and it came out positive."

Miss Pillsbury's smile faded.

"I don't believe in abortion," I said quickly, "so that's not an option. I'm leaning toward adoption, just like I was with Beth, but I might want to keep it. I have a lot of time to think about that, though. I came here because . . . there's a slight problem with this whole pregnancy."

Miss Pillsbury swallowed hard. "And what would that be?"

"I'm not sure who the father is."

I watched as the guidance counselor fidgeted in her seat, tugging at the hem of her skirt. She looked down and cleared her throat, pushing her hair behind her ears. She was blatantly uncomfortable, no doubt. I was, too, but I'd been through so much; it barely even bothered me anymore. My elbows rested on the armrests on either side of me. I crossed my ankles and my fingers intertwined as I waited for Miss Pillsbury to say something.

"Well, do you know who the possible fathers could be?" she asked suddenly.

I gulped.


	2. Storytime

**So here's chapter two! Enjoy!**

Storytime

Quinn's POV

"So, why don't you start with the first probable father," Miss Pillsbury suggested. "Who is he and what happened, exactly?"

"Well, it was Puck, and I wasn't drunk." I blushed. "I actually kind of gave in to him, and we were both sober. It's easier if I just tell the story."

* * *

_"Puck, I can't."_

_"Sure you can."_

_"No. Premarital sex is wrong when you do it once, let alone twice."_

_"Marry me, then."_

_"Puck!"_

_Puck sighed agitatedly. He ran a hand over his cleanly-shaven head and looked around. I folded my arms across my chest and waited. He wanted to get me into bed, since both his mother and his younger sister had gone out for the night. But I was refusing, just like I should._

_"You love me," Puck murmured, brushing my arm with his hand. "We have a baby together, Quinn."_

_"Exactly. I don't want another one," I said simply._

_He shrugged. "So we'll use protection."_

_I rolled my eyes and chuckled dryly. "Yeah, like I'm going to fall for _that_ one again," I muttered sarcastically._

_"Quinn." Puck held both of my forearms and pulled me toward him. "I love you. That's not something I say to every girl I sleep with. It's only you. And you know that you love me, too. I promise I'll use protection because, honestly, I don't want another baby, either." He leaned down and started to kiss my neck. "Please, Quinn. Just this once, and I'll never ask again."_

_I shuddered at the feel of his lips at the base of my neck. I couldn't resist, no matter how hard I tried. I did love Puck, and he was just impossible to reject. Sober as sober could be, I held his shoulders and his mouth moved to press against mine._

* * *

"So Puck is one possible father," I told Miss Pillsbury, completing my story.

"But didn't he use protection?" Miss Pillsbury asked, thinking back.

I shrugged. "He didn't. He confessed to me afterward."

Miss Pillsbury nodded. "Would you be okay if he was the father?"

"I don't know," I replied honestly. "I mean, he's my boyfriend and I love him. We've already had a baby together. But he'll always be Puck, and he's always been a player. I'm sort of trying to prepare myself for him to admit that he slept with another girl, but I know I'll be heartbroken either way."

"I suppose that's a good way to look at it." Miss Pillsbury stood up and crossed the room. From a little shelf in the corner, she picked up a bottle of hand sanitizer and pumped a drop of it into her palm. She rubbed both hands together and went back to her desk. "Who's the next potential father?"

I bit my lip before beginning my next story.

* * *

_I knocked on the door of the apartment. I'd been there many times before, but for all different, crazy reasons. This time, I was coming to pick up the favorite sweater I'd left when the Glee Club met there weeks ago._

_Mr. Schuester answered the door with a smile. "Hey, Quinn. What are you doing here?"_

_"I came to pick up my sweater," I told him, entering the apartment. "I left it here a little while ago."_

_"Well, you can go ahead and get it."_

_I went to the living room. I lifted one of the cushions on the couch. My sweater was all bunched up in the crack of the sofa. I picked it up and, after putting the cushion back in its original place, shook it out. It was all wrinkled; I'd have to iron in when I got home._

_"Did you find it?" Mr. Schue yelled from the kitchen._

_"Yeah," I yelled back. "I guess I'll go now."_

_Mr. Schue came in the room. "Actually, you can stay for dinner, if you'd like. I just ordered pizza. It's in the kitchen right now."_

_I smirked. "Thanks."_

_He led me to the kitchen. I sat down at the table. The apartment was really nice. Mr. Schue sat down with two paper plates, a triangular slice of cheese pizza on each. He placed one in front of me and put his own down in front of him._

_After we ate and had a nice conversation about random things, we went to the living room. During dinner, we'd gotten into the conversation of how Mr. Schue was in Glee Club when he was younger. I'd insisted on seeing videos. It took a little bit of persuasion, but I eventually got him to give in. I eagerly sat on the couch, grinning as Mr. Schue popped an old tape into the ancient-looking VCR below his television set. He sat down next to me._

_As the video started to play, I began laughing hysterically. Mr. Schue hid his face in humiliation. After a few moments, he leapt to his feet and flicked off the TV._

_"That was great," I chortled, wiping my eyes, which were teary from laughing so hard. "But you were admittedly amazing, Mr. Schue."_

_"Thanks," the teacher mumbled, returning to his spot on the sofa right next to me. "It still feels great getting compliments like that."_

_I looked up at him. He turned his head toward me, and I couldn't help but get mesmerized in his beautiful brown eyes. "Do you ever miss being a kid? Like, having Glee Club and everything? Being free, enjoying life while you're still young?"_

_Mr. Schue shrugged. "Well, of course I do. It's sort of weird, actually. Like I always have the feeling of emptiness in my heart, the yearning to just be young again."_

_"I don't want that feeling when I'm older," I murmured. "I want the feeling of pure joy, knowing I spent my years wisely."_

_"I have that sometimes, too." Mr. Schue smiled at me. "It's confusing, but you'll understand when you're older."_

_After that, it was really quiet. He stared straight ahead, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from his face. He looked at me then, his eyes soft._

_Suddenly, without warning, he pulled me toward him and pressed his lips to mine. It felt like a dream. I closed my eyes and couldn't pull away._

* * *

I looked away sheepishly. Miss Pillsbury cleared her throat. From the corner of my eye, I looked at her. Her eyes narrowed, and her lips pursed. Her eyebrows came together. She had nearly the same expression that Finn almost always acquired. I lifted my head, looking at the guidance counselor completely now. She took a deep breath and struggled to process what I'd just told her.

"What happened afterward?" she asked finally.

I sucked in a huge breath. "I . . . woke up the next morning, grabbed my stuff, and quickly ran home. I told my parents that I spent the night at Mercedes' place and that I had forgotten to tell them the night before. They believed it, but they were still kind of suspicious, since I used that same exact excuse the night I spent with Puck."

Miss Pillsbury nodded. "O . . . kay. I understand." She looked away awkwardly. "I, um, think Mr. Schuester can get in some sort of trouble for doing . . . what he did." Her eyes moved to my face again.

"Well, it's not like h–he . . . forced me into it," I grumbled. "It was voluntary on both parts."

The guidance counselor half-smiled in a way that didn't express happiness, nor did it show that she felt sad. However, it did seem as if she was showing the expression she was in the triumph of being able to prove a point. "And do you think that was such an appropriate decision to make, Quinn?"

I huffed loudly and threw my head back. "No," I breathed, bringing my head back down. "It was a stupid thing to do, I know. But . . . I don't know. It's confusing. It was almost like I couldn't leave, you know, like I'd break his heart if I did. But now I realize that it's probably more likely to break his heart because I _didn't_ leave. He's probably going to feel guilty for having sex with one of his students." I shook my head and looked down. "I shouldn't have stayed for dinner."

"You didn't know what you were getting yourself into." Miss Pillsbury shrugged. "You're young. You've still got a lot to learn about life. But Mr. Schuester should have known better than to take advantage of a young post-baby-hormonal student such as yourself."

"I guess so."

"So what about this third likely father?" Miss Pillsbury questioned.

I cleared my throat. "I'm honestly even more ashamed of this night than the night with Mr. Schue. Okay, here goes."

* * *

_"Hello, Quinn!" Kurt greeted me, throwing his arms around me. I grinned, hugging him back. As soon as Kurt and Finn's parents departed for their honeymoon in Hawaii, Finn jumped at the chance to throw a party. Kurt was strongly opposed at first, but I could see in his face now—standing at the front door of the Hummel-Hudson household—that he was having an amazing time._

_"Hi, Kurt." I smiled wider as I stepped into the house. Music boomed throughout the whole building, and people flooded each hallway and room. There was a table lined with different kinds of hors d'oeuvres and snacks that people were devouring. It was dim in the house, with only a strobe light illuminated people's faces._

_"You like?" Kurt asked, gesturing around the room. "I worked on it myself."_

_"It's awesome!" I yelled over some sort of pop song. The song ended, but it was quickly followed by Lady Gaga's _Alejandro_._

_"Oh, I love this song! I'm gonna go dance! Catch you later, Quinn!" Kurt pecked me on the cheek before heading toward the middle of the living room, which was being used as the dance floor. I headed toward the refreshments. I'd had a crazy week, and I was really hoping this party could help me unwind a little. I bit into a potato chip and looked around at all of the familiar faces._

_"Quinn!"_

_I'd just swallowed the rest of my chip when I heard someone calling my name. I looked around to find the source. Just as I turned, Finn was standing in front of me, two tall red cups in his hands. He grinned at me, his eyes wide. His expression was almost the same as the day the Glee Club had underwent the whole "vitamin D" incident._

_"I got you a drink!" Finn shoved the cup into my hands._

_"Thanks," I said, looking down at the liquid. I took a sip, and it tasted oddly familiar, but I couldn't quite put my finger on what it was. I just shrugged it off and casually leaned against the table. "So how are things going with you and Rachel?"_

_Finn shrugged. "I don't even know. She, like, got a necklace with my name on it, which I thought was kinda cool. But she's always just yellin' at me because I'm"—he took on his confused expression—". . . ale-tampered or something."_

_"Ill-tempered," I corrected him with a smile. "It means you're grumpy a lot of the time."_

_"Oh." Finn smirked. "Never knew what that meant until now. I was kinda afraid to ask her, you know, because I thought she'd go insane and attack me or something. You never know what she's gonna do."_

_"That's true." I took another sip of the drink, and I was suddenly guzzling it down. I poured the very last drop onto my tongue and looked up at Finn, who was taking a big gulp of his own drink._

_"Got any more of this?" I asked, holding the completely empty cup out in front of me. I smiled. "It's really good."_

_"Yeah, I know." Finn took the cup from me. "Stay here." He clambered toward the kitchen._

_I just stood there, waiting. I watched as Puck slunk through the crowd. I slouched down so he wouldn't see me. I didn't want him standing there while I talked to Finn, even if Puck was my boyfriend._

_Finn came back with two full cups in his hands, and two more in each crook of his elbow. He shrugged as I took one. "I got a few more, just in case."_

_I giggled. We continued talking as if we were the best of friends, as if we'd never dated and Beth hadn't existed. I finished the addicting drink and sucked down three more cups, and Finn had done the same. I hadn't noticed that I had just taken down five cups of alcohol until my speech was slurred and I actually tripped, grabbing Finn's arm for support._

_"I'm glad you came," Finn said, the sentence garbled. He gave me his patented Finn Hudson Goofy Grin™ and put his hand on my forearm._

_I glanced at his large hand before turning my attention back to his face. "Thanks for inviting me."_

_Before I could even get the whole sentence out, Finn's lips crushed mine. I didn't push him away, even knowing that Puck was in the room. Rachel was there, too, and I really wanted her to be heartbroken. Finn wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer toward him. My fingers tangled in his already-messy hair. He lifted me into his arms and carried me toward the basement door. He pulled the door open, locked it behind him, and stumbled down the stairs, our lips never coming apart in the process. He laid me down on his bed and grinned lopsidedly._

_His lips moved to my neck. I held his shoulders and stared at the ceiling._

_"Those were wine coolers, weren't they?" I panted._

_"Mmm," Finn hummed, and I knew that meant they were. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on just Finn, but my drunken mind was going in such a whirl that I could focus on nothing other than Puck finding out I'd had sex with Finn._

* * *

"Then, the next morning, I woke him up and told him not to tell anyone," I explained to Miss Pillsbury. "He agreed. It was a drunken one-night stand and we didn't want anyone to know; it was just going to be a thing of the past."

Miss Pillsbury shrugged. "Well, I'm sure it needs to be brought up again, since he's a possible father."

I sighed and shook my head. "This is a disaster. I don't know what I'm going to do. How am I supposed to figure out who the father is?"

"I think there needs to be a paternity test," Miss Pillsbury told me, straightening out her skirt.

"But I don't want my parents to find out."

"That's a risk you're going to have to take, Quinn." The guidance counselor stood up and leveled out the flowers in the cream-colored vase in the corner of the room. "For the sake of the baby."

The baby. My second damn baby.

**Yes? No? Review!**


	3. Heartbreak

**Summary So Far: **Quinn has begun her daily sessions with the guidance counselor, and she's already confessed to Miss Pillsbury who each of the three possible fathers of her baby is. Now comes the hard part: breaking the news to Puck, Finn, and Will.

Quinn's POV

My mind was reeling. Why did bad things always have to happen to me? I'd never done anything wrong, other than premarital sex. But that was it.

I used to be mean to people less fortunate that me, sure. But having Beth changed me. I was a different person now; I didn't need another baby to show me how to act. I knew in my heart that I didn't deserve this. Nobody did. The pain, the name-calling, the ignorance – I would have to go through it all again. Was this God's way of teaching me a lesson? If so, I could understand the message He was trying to get across, but I surely didn't approve of His methods.

I clutched my books to my chest, taking slow steps down the hall. I barely knew where I was going. I was completely out of it until I heard someone saying my name.

I blinked several times and shook my head dynamically. Puck was in my line of vision then, waving a hand in front of my face. I couldn't quite see his face at first, but I knew it was him from the white T-shirt hugging his slender yet muscled torso, and the unbuttoned white shirt with navy blue stripes hanging off of his sides. He always rolled the sleeves up. The faded blue jeans and dark sneakers just added to his everyday attire.

"Quinn," his deep voice echoed. "You okay?"

I cleared my throat and nodded. "Yeah. I'm fine."

He leaned against the lockers. "So, about the other night . . ."

"Don't." I bit my lip. "It's okay."

"You're not mad at me?" he asked.

I shook my head. "I agreed to it. It wasn't entirely your fault."

"Cool," he breathed, smirking. "So you'd be up to doing it again sometime?"

I sighed and pushed past him. "Dream on, Puckerman."

He caught up to me. "Hey, I was just kidding. I promised you I'd never ask again, remember?"

"Yeah, and you _also _promised me that you would use protection that night."

"Okay, so I lied to you then. But it's not like it made a difference."

I couldn't take it anymore. I spun on my heel to face him. "It did, Puck. It _did_ make a difference. Because I'm pregnant again. You lied to me, and now we both have to face the consequences." I turned back around and strutted forward.

The worst part was that I couldn't even tell him that I wasn't sure if he was the father.

I gnawed on my bottom lip and blinked ferociously to prevent my tears from falling. When I was sure I wasn't going to cry, I took a deep breath and entered Spanish class. I stopped when I saw Mr. Schuester. His back was facing me and the rest of the class as he wrote something on the whiteboard in the front of the room. I took a deep breath and went to my desk near the back of the room, right in front of Santana and in between Tina and Kurt.

Santana tapped me on the shoulder. I twisted around to face her.

"You skipped Cheerios practice yesterday," she reminded me, folding her arms across her chest. "Coach Sylvester was pissed. What's your deal?"

"I was busy," I said in a hushed tone.

Santana chuckled dryly. "You _honestly _think Sylvester cares that you were busy? Too busy for Cheerios practice?"

"I don't give a damn what she thinks. It's my business, okay?" I turned back around and waited for Mr. Schuester to start class. When Puck stepped into the room, I ducked my head and pretended to be writing on my binder. Once he sat down in his seat diagonally across from mine, I was able to look at him from the corner of my eye. But I was suddenly terrified of seeing Finn, who was also in my class, so I kept my head low and started scribbling absently.

"All right," Mr. Schuester's voice boomed. I shuddered a little. "Who can tell me how to take—"

I lost focus all at once then. I really didn't care anymore. School was really hard to deal with when I was pregnant with Beth, and I could only imagine what it would be like again. What would people say about me this time? It was already known to everyone that I was a slut, since I'd already had a baby. But _two _babies before the age of eighteen? What's worse than that? Well, I guessed that would have to be _three_ babies before the age of eighteen, but—

Suddenly, my thoughts were interrupted by a disturbing gurgling in my stomach. I waited for it to pass, but it didn't seem like it was going to any time soon. I quickly swallowed back the bad taste in my mouth. I had to interact with Mr. Schuester at some point, so why not get back on track by talking to him like a regular teacher? My hand shot in the air, and Mr. Schue stopped talking. He looked at me and blinked, then swallowed hard, pointing to me.

"Uh, y–yes, Quinn?"

"Can I get the bathroom pass? I feel sick."

Mr. Schue turned away awkwardly, his eyebrows coming together. "Um. Yeah, sure. Go ahead."

On my way to the bathroom, the feeling in my stomach got worse. I covered my mouth with my hand and began streaking for the abandoned girls' bathroom at the end of the creepily unused hallway. I kicked open one of the stalls and leaned over the toilet, pulling my hand away from my mouth. I felt so terrible, so violently sick. I didn't think I'd be able to make it through Spanish class, let alone the rest of the school day.

I coughed loudly as I flushed the toilet. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, still wheezing raucously. As I washed my hands thoroughly, the feeling in my stomach returned, but it wasn't quite as bad as before I threw up; the gurgling had definitely gone away.

When I exited the bathroom, Puck was leaning against the wall, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. I sighed and turned away, but he stepped in front of me quickly.

"You weren't joking with me before class, were you?" he asked quietly.

I folded my arms across my chest. "Why the hell would I joke about something like that, Puck?"

"I don't know," he said with a shrug, looking around to make sure nobody was going to walk by. "I just . . . It's really surprising, you know? I'm gonna be a father of two in nine months, and I'm only turning seventeen."

I bit my lip and looked down.

He ducked down to look at my face. "Something wrong?"

"No," I lied, looking up again. I couldn't look him in the eyes. It was just too hard to lie to my boyfriend's face when I was staring into his mesmerizing hazel eyes. Instead, I stared at his forehead.

Puck stepped forward and took my hand in his, breathing out a heavy sigh. "Look, I know I've screwed up a few times, made some bad decisions." He shrugged. "Well, a lot of bad decisions, actually. And you probably think I'm still a player and stuff, but I . . . I love you, Quinn. It's never been easy to say that, but I like saying it to you—I _love _saying it to you, because it's true. I want to be with you, like, forever. And I want to keep this baby with you."

I closed my eyes to prevent from crying. I inhaled a shaky breath and opened my eyes to look into Puck's innocent ones, hazel irises that didn't even give off the least bit of dishonesty. He was so true and honest, it hurt me inside to know that I'd lied to him so badly when I hadn't even told him the whole story yet.

And that's when the tears came.

"Hey, don't cry," he said, holding my other hand as well. "I don't know if it's 'cause you're happy, or . . . pregnant . . ."

"I don't know if the baby is yours," I told him truthfully, closing my eyes again.

He didn't say anything and I kept my eyes closed, so I wasn't sure what he was thinking at all. After a few minutes, he asked, "What?"

"I don't know if the baby is yours," I repeated.

"You're . . . you're lying. This is a joke." The words were all rushed, and I could sense a little bit of urgency in his voice.

"I wish I was," I sobbed, my eyelids fluttering open. "But—as embarrassing as this is to say—you're not the only guy I slept with last week; there are two other guys that could be the father, too. There's no way for me to find out who it could be without my parents finding out about the whole pregnancy, so I'm—"

Puck cut me off, releasing my hands. "Who are the other two guys?"

I hesitated, staring into Puck's eyes, which had suddenly darkened furiously.

"Tell me," he hissed.

"F–Finn," I uttered, "and . . . Mr. Schue."

"Mr. Schue? I'm pissed that you just said _Finn_, but _Mr. Schue_? Isn't that fucking illegal?"

I didn't even scold him for his bad language. "I wasn't planning for it to happen; it just did! I was drunk when I was with Finn at his party. But I only went to Mr. Schue's house to get my sweater, and I stayed for dinner and we watched videos and things just . . . happened!"

Puck squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his hands to either side of his head angrily. "This is completely insane. I have no clue what to say right now."

"I'm really sorry, Puck," I cried. "I truly am. But I don't think we should be together; not right now. At least, not until I figure out who the father of the baby is."

Puck opened his eyes and stared at me. "I can't just let this go. Sure, I may have slept around in the past, but I would never hook up with two people—especially a _dumbass_ and my _teacher_—in the same week I was with someone I love." He took a few steps back and added, "If the kid's not mine, don't talk to me ever again, for the sake of us both." He turned around and, as he was walking away, said to himself, "What the fuck does heartbreak feel like?"

**What'd'ya think? :D**


	4. Rapping

**I'm proud of this chapter. :) Enjoy and review!**

Rapping

Quinn's POV

"Are you okay, Quinn?"

Even with my eyes closed, that voice was recognizable anywhere. I didn't even have to lift my eyelids to know that Rachel Berry was standing there, leaning over me and creating darkness around me by blocking the light. When I did open my eyes, weakly elevating my head, I was right; the light peeked out from around Rachel, leaving her own figure a shadowy silhouette.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"Then why are you sitting here with your eyes closed?" she asked, moving to sit next to me. When the light hit me, it made me blink a few times, but my attention was mainly on why Rachel had just sat next to me. I felt the need to shove her away, to assure her that I hadn't invited her to sit there. But I just let it go; as soon as Mr. Schuester walked in, Rachel would be on her feet and rambling on to him about how she wanted the solo in _this_ song and the main part in _that _one.

I shrugged, inching toward the edge of my seat, intending to be as far away from Rachel as I could get. "I've got a lot on my mind."

"Anything I can help with?" she questioned.

_Not unless you want to start working on devising a scheme to murder me for sleeping with Finn. _"No."

"Oh, okay. But just remember that I'm always here to help."

"Mmm."

She stood up and jumped down a few rows, parking herself front and center. I was relieved that she had moved, since I didn't think she would. I relaxed in my seat, the one I'd chosen in the far left corner of the room. I really didn't want to sit near anyone, especially not Finn or Puck, who had designated seats that they sat in every day during Glee rehearsals.

I didn't even realize that I had been the first one in the room; not until I looked around and saw that it was only Rachel and me there. She had her head bowed, and she was mumbling to herself — probably singing under her breath or something. Then I saw Artie wheel himself into the room alone, when he was usually with Tina. He stopped at the end of the front row and just sat silently, his hands folded across his lap. I stared at him and wondered until Tina stepped into the room, her fingers intertwined with Mike's. I understood then that Tina had apparently dumped Artie for Mike. I felt sympathy for Artie as his sad eyes followed Tina and Mike as they laughed all the way to their seats in the back row, three seats away from me. Artie looked down and pouted sadly.

Then it was the usual, people entering two-by-two. Kurt was with Mercedes, Santana was with Brittany. I half-expected Mike to come in with Matt, until I remembered that Mike was sitting a few seats away from me and that Matt had transferred schools.

Finn walked in the room, his head low, hands deep in his pockets. He wore his light blue sweater with the navy blue stripes running horizontally across with jeans and sneakers. His hair was in its infamous ruffled style. He wasn't grinning goofily, nor was he the least bit confused. He just looked flat-out miserable. He blinked slowly and halfheartedly took a seat next to Rachel, who had been prattling nonstop at him since he'd first stepped into the room. He nodded nonchalantly every minute or so, just to assure her that he was paying attention to her, even if it was only an act.

I watched him in trepidation, desperately wanting him to break out into his stupid grin and explode with rumbling laughter; not to be depressed and hating himself for something I was sure had to do with me.

Mr. Schue walked in and started handing out sheet music immediately, avoiding eye contact with me at all costs. It was only when I received my piece of music that I realized Puck had never come in the room. I knew it was my fault and sighed agitatedly, looking down at the song in my hand.

"Mr. Schue, isn't this song slightly inappropriate for us to be singing?" Rachel asked, getting to her feet and approaching Mr. Schuester. "There's a profound amount of vulgar language, and I . . . I'm not even sure this is singing at all. It's just rapping!"

Mr. Schue sighed, placing a hand on Rachel's shoulder. "Don't worry, Rachel. I've cut out the more expletive parts and, out of the parts we actually will be performing, I've changed the swears to more appropriate words. It _is_ mostly rapping, but the hook is all singing, and we can even have some people backing up the rap by singing."

Rachel nodded, suddenly reassured. She went and sat down next to Finn again, huddling close to him and pointing to certain parts in the song, rambling away. I just sat back and read over the lyrics. Though I wasn't really into rap songs, I actually kind of liked this song, and especially the rapper himself, Eminem. He wasn't bad, I had to admit. And I'd listened to enough of his songs when I spent time with Puck. This specific song really spoke out to people, though, and I loved the message Eminem was trying to get out.

"All right." Mr. Schue clapped his hands together and looked around. "We'll start out the song with Mercedes, Mike, Rachel, Finn, Tina, . . ."—he swallowed hard—". . . and Quinn."

I tightened my ponytail and looked away.

Mr. Schue pointed to Kurt. "Kurt will take the speaking part during that."

Kurt smirked.

"Okay, so when the rap starts, we'll have Artie kick us off until right here . . ." He pointed to a certain line on Artie's sheet music, and Artie nodded, reading over his part. "Then we'll have Finn go for the next four lines. As you can see, that's where I cut the verse off, because I just couldn't seem to replace the rest of it with more appropriate words. Santana, Kurt, and Brittany, I want you to repeat every other line each guy says, starting with Artie's second line, okay?"

Santana and Kurt nodded, but Brittany cocked her head to the side.

"Santana, help Brittany out with that." Mr. Schue spun on his heel to face Mercedes, Rachel, and Tina, who were all in the same general area, but he avoided looking at me. "It will go back to the hook then, so the same six people will start up again. For the second verse . . . wait, where's Puck?"

"He never showed up," Kurt explained.

Mr. Schue shrugged. "Well, when he does, he'll start the second verse. For now, I'll take it. Then it'll be passed over to Mike, and when he's done, it goes back to the hook, yet again. After that is the bridge, which Artie will take. The beginning of verse three goes to Finn, passes over to Puck—well, me, for now—and then Mike will take over the rest of the verse, and the hook comes around again. And that's it! Think you guys can handle it?"

"Of course we can, Mr. Schue!" Rachel exclaimed optimistically. She pranced to the front of the room, music in hand, and called, "If we can pull this off perfectly, this piece of music will truly speak to people!"

Mercedes and Tina joined Rachel in the front of the room. I hesitantly stood and dragged myself over to them. Finn looked away awkwardly, pretending to read over the music, but he kept looking at me from the corner of his eye.

"Okay, guys. Start us off."

Rachel was happy to sing louder than the five of us, but we didn't care.

"_I'm not afraid.  
__To take a stand."_

"It's been a ride," Kurt spoke, reading the words off of the paper.

"_Everybody,  
__Come take my hand."_

"I guess I had to go to that place to get to this one," Kurt read as we sang.

"_We'll walk this road together,  
__Through the storm."_

"Now some of you . . ." Kurt started.

"_Whatever weather . . ."_

". . . might still be in that place."

"_. . . cold or warm."_

"If you're trying to get out . . ."

"_Just let you know that  
__You're not alone."_

". . . just follow me."

"_Holla if you feel  
__That you've been down . . ."_

"I'll get you there."

"_. . . the same road."_

Artie wheeled himself forward and, before we even finished singing our line, started the rap.

"_You can try and read my lyrics off of this paper before I lay 'em.  
__But you won't take this thing out these words before I say 'em.  
_'_Cause ain't no way I'm 'a let you stop me from causing' mayhem.  
__When I say 'em or do something, I do it; I don't give a damn  
__What you think."_

In the middle of the line, Finn took over, standing up slowly as he began to rap.

"_I'm doing this for me, so stop the world.  
__Feed it beans, it's gassed up if a thing's stopping me.  
__I'm 'a be what I set out to be, without a doubt undoubtedly.  
__And all those who look down on me, I'm tearin' down your balcony."_

Cutting off the rest of the verse, I couldn't tear my eyes away from Finn as he sang the hook. I was singing, too, along with the other girls and Mike, but I couldn't help but be focused on Finn only.

"_I'm not afraid  
__To take a stand.  
__Everybody,  
__Come take my hand.  
__We'll walk this road together,  
__Through the storm.  
__Whatever weather,  
__Cold or warm.  
__Just let you know that  
__You're not alone.  
__Holla if you feel  
__That you've been down  
__The same road."_

My attention suddenly caught Mr. Schue, who started rapping the middle of the second verse, since he'd cut out the whole beginning of it due to unfixable foul language. It was mesmerizing as he danced around, his perfect lips enunciating each word, and I couldn't help but think of those soft lips on mine.

"_To the fans, I'll never let you down again; I'm back.  
__I promise to never go back on that promise, in fact  
__Let's be honest; that last Relapse CD was _'ehh.'  
_Perhaps I ran them accents into the ground."_

Mike was an admittedly amazing rapper, now that he'd actually gotten a chance to show his talents. Everybody was surprised when he started rapping his few lines.

"_Relax, I ain't goin' back to that now.  
__All I'm tryin' to say is get back; click-clack, BLAOW.  
_'_Cause I ain't playin' around.  
__There's a game called circle and I don't know how.  
__I'm way too up to back down."_

Finn seemed troubled. His eyebrows came together as he sang, and he stared blankly forward. Rachel was concerned, but that didn't stop her from singing. I started to sing softer.

"_I'm not afraid  
__To take a stand.  
__Everybody,  
__Come take my hand.  
__We'll walk this road together,  
__Through the storm.  
__Whatever weather,  
__Cold or warm.  
__Just let you know that  
__You're not alone.  
__Holla if you feel  
__That you've been down  
__The same road."_

Artie eyed Tina as he sang the bridge aloud.

"_And I just can't keep living this way.  
__So, starting today, I'm breaking out of this cage.  
__I'm standing up, I'm 'a face my demons.  
__I'm manning up, I'm 'a hold my ground.  
__I've had enough, now I'm so fed up.  
__Time to put my life back together right now."_

Finn stared at the ground and rapped completely lackadaisically.

"_It was my decision to get clean; I did it for me.  
__Admittedly, I probably did it subliminally for you.  
__So I could come back a brand new me; you helped see me through.  
__And don't even realize what you did, believe me, you."_

That verse reminded me so much of Puck, it wasn't even funny. I was pretty sure Finn knew it, too. I was so thankful that Mr. Schue hadn't assigned that part to Puck; it would have absolutely killed me.

Mr. Schue, for the first time since _that_ night, looked me in the eyes as he rapped.

"_I've been through the ringer, but they can do little to the middle finger.  
__I think I got a tear in my eye, I feel like the kind of my world.  
__Haters can make like bees with no stingers and drop dead.  
__No more beef flingers, no more drama from now on. I promise  
__To focus solely on handling my responsibilities as a father.  
__So I solemnly swear to treat this roof like my daughters and raise it."_

My stomach twisted when he said the second to last line in his part, since it was so ironic. It made me think he actually gave the part to Puck for a reason; like he _knew_ that Puck knew I was pregnant. It made me shudder slightly.

Mike belted out his part confidently, and I tried to focus on him.

"_You couldn't lift a single shingle on it.  
_'_Cause the way I feel, I'm strong enough to go to the club  
__Or the corner pub and lift the whole liquor counter up.  
_'_Cause I'm raising the bar, I shoot for the moon.  
__But I'm too busy gazing at stars, I feel amazing."_

I started crying. I didn't realize I had my eyes closed until they fluttered open when I felt someone's hand reach over and touch mine gently. I looked over to see that, subtly, Mr. Schuester had stood in close proximity to me so that he could touch my hand without anyone seeing. I stared at his face as I sang, and he stared back at me, smirking slightly.

"_I'm not afraid  
__To take a stand.  
__Everybody,  
__Come take my hand.  
__We'll walk this road together,  
__Through the storm.  
__Whatever weather,  
__Cold or warm.  
__Just let you know that  
__You're not alone.  
__Holla if you feel  
__That you've been down  
__The same road."_

Mr. Schuester's hand left mine, and I wanted to leap forward and grab onto his arm, never to let go. But he walked away and started applauding, grinning widely. I wiped my tears quickly.

"Great job, everyone," he praised. "You really _did _pull it off."

Rachel spent the rest of the hour critiquing everybody, giving a different piece of advice to each person. When the bell rang, Mr. Schue called out, "Quinn, could I see you in my office, please?"

I froze in my tracks, but obliged and entered Mr. Schue's office, sitting down silently. He closed the door and went to the other side of his desk, sitting across from me.

"We need to talk," he sighed.

I bit my lip.

"I know I kind of just . . . held your hand out there," he breathed, "but it was only because I saw you crying and thought you needed to be comforted a little."

I nodded understandingly.

He stood up, came around to my side of the desk, and sat down on the edge of it. "Look, Quinn, I know things are really awkward now because of what happened the other night. I was out of line, and I'm pretty sure it was illegal. If your family wants to press charges—"

I shook my head dynamically. "No. It was my choice, too."

He blinked slowly and smirked briefly. "Well, I'm sure you're really uncomfortable now. I am, too. But I think—since you're sure you don't want to take me to court or anything—that this is something we're going to need to put behind us. It was a mistake." He shrugged. "Not a _mistake_, but more like an unexpected occurrence. We can't be together. But I'm really willing to take things back to normal. I'm just your Spanish teacher and Glee Club director." He half-smiled. "What do you say?"

I closed my eyes. "I'm pregnant."

My eyes flew open immediately. Mr. Schue stared at me. His expression changed from shock to uncertainty to just plain confusion.

"You're . . . sure?" he asked.

"Positive."

Mr. Schuester slowly got to his feet, moving around to the other side of the desk once again. He sat down and put his elbows on the desktop, shoving his face in his hands. After a few moments, he looked up at me with bothered eyes. I turned away and blinked my tears back fiercely. Mr. Schue let out a distressed sigh and rubbed the back of his neck with both hands.

"Have you . . . given any thought to what you might do about it?" he finally asked.

I turned my head to look at him. He was staring at me, leaning back in his chair, his hands folded together.

"Well," I started, "this is really embarrassing, but . . . I'm not sure if the baby is yours."

His leaned forward as his eyebrows scrunched together. "Come again?"

"I don't know if you're the father of the baby. You aren't the only guy I had sex with last week, as much as it hurts me to say that," I confessed. "Puck or Finn could be the father, too, but I seriously have no clue which of you three it could be."

He blinked, staring at me uncomfortably. "Oh. Um. That's . . . surprising, I guess. I don't really . . . know what to say."

"I already told Puck and he told me never to talk to him again if the baby isn't his," I said. "I haven't told Finn anything yet, but I will."

"Is there any way a paternity test could be done?" Mr. Schue asked.

"Not without my parents finding out about this." I shrugged. "Well, my _mom_. My father doesn't live with us anymore."

Mr. Schue sighed. "Well, your mom will have to find out sooner or later," he pointed out. "And you really need to figure out who the father of this baby is. It will solve a lot of problems, and everything can be taken care of a lot easier when there's only one baby daddy you have to deal with."

"I guess you're right."

He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples with two fingers. "This is crazy. If that baby is mine . . ." He looked up at me. "I could get in so much trouble for this once people find out. It only applies _if_ the baby is mine, but I'd still feel guilty for the rest of my life. Knowing that I could have been the father, putting you through hell . . . all over again." He threw his head back and stared at the ceiling. "In fact, that's how I feel right now."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," I murmured. "It isn't all your fault. And you don't even know if the kid is yours yet, so—"

"But it _could_ be, Quinn," Mr. Schue interjected, meeting my gaze. "That's the point. What we did the other night was totally inappropriate and the consequences are something we're going to have to deal with now."

I closed my eyes. "I think I feel sick. I'd like to go to the nurse."

"All right," Mr. Schue breathed. "Go on."

I scurried out of his office and ran down the hall, toward my locker. I quickly turned the combination and yanked the locker door open. I was lucky that I had extra clothes. I grabbed the bag and sprinted toward the bathroom. Once I was in a stall, I yanked off my Cheerios uniform angrily, my tears splashing all over it as I folded it up. I quickly pulled on my favorite buttercream yellow dress and white sweater.

The same sweater that had been at Mr. Schuester's house.

It hadn't even occurred to me when I'd brought the outfit to school. But, frankly, I couldn't care less at this point. I stomped out of the bathroom and approached Coach Sylvester's office. I knocked on the door, and she yelled for me to come in. I did just that, but I didn't sit down; instead, I stayed near the door and stared at her angrily. One hand was set on my hip and the other clutched the Cheerios uniform in my fist.

Coach Sylvester looked up at me. She glanced at the uniform before meeting my stare once again. "What are you doing, Q? Why are you not clad in red polyester?"

"I quit," I spat, tossing the uniform on Coach Sylvester's desk.

She gawked at me. "You _quit_? You can't _quit_! I agreed to let you join my squad again, and you betray me by _quitting_? You're setting a bad image, Quinn Fabray!"

I shrugged. "Good. I don't want to be a Cheerio anymore, Sylvester, and that's that." I spun on my heel and strutted out of the room. I felt victorious as I marched toward the door, but I stopped dead in my tracks when Finn came around the corner.

"Quinn, I wanna talk to you."

**Oh, snap! :D**


	5. Moving

**Summary So Far: Puck is angry at Quinn; he insisted that she not talk to him unless she finds out that the baby is, in fact, his own child. Quinn and Mr. Schuester had a heart-to-heart conversation and, after Mr. Schuester had told her they couldn't be together, Quinn confessed to him that she was pregnant with what might not be his child. She left his office with a bad feeling in her stomach and immediately quit the Cheerios. She proceeded to find Finn standing at the end of the hallway, waiting to talk to her.**

Quinn's POV

My heart started beating faster. I felt like I was about to break out sweating nervously. I blinked several times to make sure that this was real. When I realized I wasn't going to wake up from a dream, I asked Finn, "What is it?"

Finn swallowed hard. "Well, uh, I was talking to Puck before Glee. He was kinda, like, pissed, so I asked him what was up, and he just flat-out said you were pregnant."

I looked away sheepishly.

"I dunno if that means it's Puck's, but I do know that we had . . . sex"—I knew that Finn _still_ wasn't comfortable saying that word—"and that I didn't use protection."

My lips formed a hard line. "It could be yours, but it could also be Puck's or Mr. Schue's."

"Wait, what?"

"I slept with both of them last week, too," I told him, looking at his confused face. It almost made me feel guilty. I had no clue what he was thinking, but no matter what it was, he looked pained. I bit my lip.

"So . . . what do we do?" he asked.

"I'm going to find out who the father is," I said. "I don't know when, but I will. Then this will be a lot easier."

"Oh. Okay. Should I be worried about anything?"

"No. Don't stress over this, Finn. I don't want you thinking about something that you might not even be a part of," I murmured, stepping closer to him so that I could speak quieter and he'd still hear me. "If the baby is yours, _that's_ when we'll start fretting the important stuff. But until we do that paternity test, try to stay calm, for me."

Finn nodded. "I will."

I smirked, placing my hand on his arm. I closed my eyes briefly, and then turned away. As I was walking, I felt his eyes following me; he was still standing there. It broke my heart how innocently unperceptive Finn could be; he was delicate, and it was almost impossible to be mean to him without wanting to cry afterward.

I sighed as I walked home quickly. Through the window of the living room, I could see my mother sitting on the couch, reading her novel and sipping a glass of wine. I took a deep breath before entering the house.

"Quinnie? Is that you, honey?"

"Yeah, Mom," I called out, dropping my bag on the ground. I entered the living room hesitantly. I stood behind the sofa, my fingers intertwining over my stomach. Mom turned her head around. She eyed me up and down, and her eyebrows scrunched together when she saw that I wasn't wearing my uniform. She twisted her whole body around to see me better.

"Why aren't you wearing your Cheerios uniform? You went to school with it on," she recalled.

"I quit," I told her, and then shrugged. "I don't like it as much as I used to. I think I'll stick with Glee; I love it a lot better than I've ever loved the Cheerios, anyway."

Mom smiled. "Well, I'll be supportive of whatever you want to do," she told me.

I gulped.

Mom noticed my frown, and her own smile faded. "Is something wrong, sweetheart?"

"I'm pregnant," I blurted. I figured it would be easier to get it off of my chest now. I never took my eyes off of her face, and she didn't look away from mine, either. She shook her head.

"No, you can't be," she disagreed. "It's impossible."

"But it's true."

"You're not joking with me, Quinn, are you?" she questioned.

I closed my eyes and sat next to her on the couch. "No, Mom, I'm not kidding."

"B—But who's the father?" she asked.

"I . . . don't know," I replied.

Her eyes widened.

"It's one of three: Noah Puckerman, Finn Hudson, or Will Schuester," I uttered.

"_Will Schuester_!" she cried, leaping to her feet. "He's your teacher, Quinn! You had sex with three guys, one of them being your teacher?"

I got to my feet as well. "Yes. But please let me stay living here, Mom! I don't want to leave!"

Mom rubbed her tear-filled eyes robustly. "I can't deal with this right now, Quinn! I'm under enough stress as it is!"

"Mom, please!"

"I'm sorry, Quinn," she sniveled. "I don't want you and I to have the relationship that you now have with your father, but . . . you can't stay here anymore. You're my daughter and I love you and I always will, but this is just too much. For a young Christian girl to get pregnant once before marriage is enough, but _twice_? And there are three possible fathers, Quinn. That means you had premarital sex three different times in one week."

I squeezed my eyes shut and bowed my head. "I'm the disappointment of the family, I know. But I never thought you, my own understanding and forgiving mother, would stoop so low that I now have to compare you to Daddy."

Before Mom could say anything, I turned on my heel and strode up the staircase, leaving her standing in the middle of the living room. I didn't want to cry right now. I just didn't. But I couldn't stop myself, no matter how hard I tried. I pulled my favorite pink duffel bag out of my closet and began packing my stuff; Mom didn't have to tell me that she wanted me out of the house right away. When I had nearly half of my necessities in the bag, I realized I needed somewhere to go. I pulled out my phone and scrolled through the contacts hopefully. Finally, I came across a name that I was first hesitant about, but decided it was the best decision. I pressed Talk and put the phone to my ear.

"Hello?"

"Kurt . . ."

His tone was suddenly worried. "Quinn? What's wrong? Are you crying?"

"Yeah," I answered. "Listen . . . I need a favor. A _big _favor."

"Sure, Quinn. Anything."

I sniffed. "My mom is kind of, uh, kicking me out of the house. I just . . . need a place to stay for a couple days."

For a few moments, it was silent. But Kurt suddenly spoke up. "I'll need to go ask my dad and Carole, but I'd be more than willing to welcome you into the house. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Thanks, Kurt." I sat on the edge of my bed and waited. I would miss my room. I'd just gotten used to it after moving back in with my mother, but now I'd have to start missing it all over again. I sighed heavily and collapsed onto my bed. It was just so comfortable, so warm. I closed my eyes and, once again, heaved out a sigh.

"Quinn, are you still there?"

"Yes," I answered, sitting up straight again.

"My dad and Carole said it's perfectly okay for you to stay here as long as you'd like."

I smirked. "Thank you so much, Kurt. You're awesome."

"I know," he breathed jokingly. "Do you need a ride?"

"Sure."

"Okay. See you in a few."

"Thanks again. Bye."

"Goodbye."

I hung up the phone in relief. I knew I'd have to be living in the same house as Finn, too, but Kurt was a good friend to me. I'd started becoming friendly with everyone in Glee Club after Beth was born, even if I _had _become a Cheerio again. Finn and I would need to be mature about this.

As soon as I was done packing my stuff, I heard a car honking the horn outside. I took a deep breath and descended the staircase. Mom was in the kitchen now, crying. I couldn't even say goodbye to her. I looked around the house once more before exiting, closing the door behind me. I didn't look back as I trudged down the walkway toward Kurt's sleek black BMW. I hopped in the passenger side and placed the duffel bag at my feet, pulling the seatbelt over my torso.

"Hey, Quinn," Kurt greeted me, beginning to drive down the street.

"Hi," I whispered.

"I don't know why you got kicked out," he said, "but I can assume what it might be, since Finn told me what happened at our party."

I whipped my head around to look at Kurt. "He promised we weren't going to tell anyone!"

Kurt shrugged.

"Well," I sighed, "you're assuming right, I suppose. But my mom kicked me out because I don't know who the father of the baby is. It could be Finn, Puck, or Mr. Schue."

"Oh, wow. That's . . . wow."

"Yeah, I know."

"Are you gonna find out?" Kurt asked.

I laid my head back against the headrest and looked out the window. "Yeah, soon, I hope."

"What if it isn't Finn?" Kurt glanced at me. "Are you gonna move out then?"

"I honestly don't know. I'm really confused right now."

"Well, for now, we're here."

Kurt grabbed my bag for me. I exited the car and let him lead me inside the house. It was really open and the place looked very nice. It was much better than Puck's house, no doubt.

"Yo, Kurt, is that you?" Finn's voice bellowed through the house.

"Yes," Kurt yelled back. "And I brought a guest."

I smirked, hitting his arm. He chuckled and started toward the basement, where he and Finn's bedroom was. He was already halfway down the staircase and I was still standing at the top, taking a deep breath. I walked downstairs slowly, cautiously.

"Who's the guest you brought?" I heard Finn ask.

Kurt didn't answer. When I got to the bottom of the stairs, I saw that Kurt was already unpacking my things, shoving them in his dresser drawers. Finn had his back facing me. He lounged on the couch, game controller in hand, playing Halo. It nearly made me laugh. He was almost always playing on his Xbox360 game console. And when he did play it, he was barely aware of the world around him.

"You didn't answer me," Finn muttered to Kurt, pressing buttons on his controller rapidly.

I walked up behind the couch. "Hey, Finn."

"Hi, Quinn." Suddenly, he stopped playing and paused the game. He twisted around to look at me. "What are you doing here?"

"My mom kicked me out of the house," I explained. "Your parents said I could stay here."

"Oh." He turned around and started playing his game again. He apparently didn't mind that I was staying there, which definitely didn't bother me; I'd rather him not care that I was there rather than him being upset with me staying in the same house as him.

"Where's she gonna sleep?" Finn asked.

"I was thinking she could take your bed," Kurt said, "and you'd sleep on the couch down here."

"Eh . . ."

"Oh, come on, Finn." As Kurt passed his stepbrother, he gently clonked him on the head with my hairbrush. "She's pregnant. Let her at least have a comfortable place to sleep."

Kurt winked at me, and I giggled.

"Fine," Finn mumbled.

When Kurt came out of the bathroom, he looked at me. "You can go sit down, if you'd like. Finn gets so wrapped in his own fantasy world when he plays Halo; it's really fun to watch, especially when he dies, because he starts yelling."

I laughed softly and walked around the sofa to sit down. Finn moved his legs so that he took up only two cushions. I sat on the third one and watched the screen, focusing on the video game. It was really confusing for a second, so I looked at Finn's face instead. His eyebrows were scrunched together, and he had his tongue sticking out slightly. His pursed lips curved around it, and I could tell that he was biting the middle of his tongue inside his mouth. He just looked so damn cute.

"Hey, Quinn, watch this. Finn's so oblivious when he plays video games." I looked up to see Kurt leaning down right next to me, whispering in my ear. His eyes were set on Finn. He straightened his back and talked louder. "Finn, I have some news."

Finn didn't respond.

"There was a slight mix-up and, despite much confusion, it turns out that _I _am Quinn's baby daddy," Kurt said aloud. I bit my lip to keep from laughing as I watched Finn. He still had that intently focused expression, and it seemed like he hadn't heard Kurt.

Finn muttered a slight "hmm" and continued with his game. But then his eyes widened and he whipped his head around, the controller tumbling to the ground. He scrambled to his feet quickly. "Wait, _what_?"

Regardless of my resistance, a chuckle escaped my lips. Kurt was holding onto the arm of the sofa for support as he violently shook with laughter. Finn was confused.

"He was just joking," I giggled. "He wanted to show me how unmindful you are when you play video games."

Finn glared at Kurt. "That was cold, bro. You scared me shitless." He leaned down and picked up his controller.

"Why?" Kurt asked. I scooted over to the middle cushion so that Kurt could sit next to me. "You don't even know if you're the father right now. So why did that worry you so much?"

"Because she didn't even sleep with you. Plus, you're gay," Finn said. He realized he couldn't laze on two whole cushions anymore, so he just stuck with the one that was available to him and started playing his game again.

Kurt continued to pick out reasons to poke fun at Finn, and Finn came up with excuses. I wasn't really listening, even though I was directly in the middle of their argument. What if Puck was the father of my baby? He was mad at me. Pissed, even. If the kid _was_ his, would he want to be with me again? Would he help me out? And what if Mr. Schue was the father? I couldn't even fathom how people would react to hearing my teacher was the father of my baby. _Epic slut_. I wondered if I'd have to live with Mr. Schue; how terribly awkward. Could I then call him Will? And what if Finn was the father after all? He was a dope, but he'd proved to me that he could be a good father before. Plus, I was already living with him now, so that made it easier. But he loved Rachel, didn't he?

It was all too confusing. I closed my eyes and shook my head, and then realized Kurt had his hands on my shoulder. He was shaking me out of my thoughts.

"Quinn, are you all right?" he asked. "You sort of zoned out there for a minute."

"Yeah, I'm fine," I assured him.

"Dammit! What the hell?" Finn growled, throwing the controller to the ground. Kurt giggled slightly, and Finn scowled at him. He got up to turn off his Xbox360 console.

"It's just funny how you get frustrated so easily. I'm pretty sure you have anger issues," Kurt chuckled. "I'm almost positive that you do, actually."

Finn rolled his eyes.

I sighed. "Do you have any orange juice? I'm really in the mood for some suddenly."

"Sure. The kitchen's right upstairs, on your left."

"Thanks." I stood up and climbed the stairs, following Kurt's direction. Sure enough, as soon as I turned, I was standing in the kitchen. I went to the refrigerator and saw that the carton of orange juice had not yet been opened. I opened it myself and searched through all of the cabinets in the kitchen until I found a glass. I poured the juice and put the carton away swiftly. All I really wanted to be doing right now was sitting on my own comfortable sofa at home, watching TV and not having to worry about anything. Instead, I was sitting at the kitchen table of the Hummel-Hudson residence, sipping orange juice and staring at nothing in particular.

I sighed as heavy footsteps began plodding up the basement stairs. It couldn't have been Kurt; he was always so light on his feet. The door swung open and Finn trudged on forward, his head and shoulders low.

"Something wrong?" I asked as he went to the fridge.

"Nah," he responded. "I'm fine."

"Oh." Feeling awkward, I took a swig of juice. Finn went around to the other side of the table with a can of Coke in his hand. He stopped for a second, and then decided to sit down.

"Do you hate me?" he asked. I looked up at his face. He wouldn't meet my eyes.

"Why would I hate you?"

"For getting you drunk and . . . you know . . ." He swallowed hard.

"I don't hate you," I told him. "I'm bewildered by a lot of things right now, but I'm trying not to be in a bad mood about it. Puck hates me, Mr. Schue's all discombobulated, and . . ." I squinted. "How are you feeling, Finn?"

He lifted his head. "About what?"

I shrugged. "Life. Me. The baby. Everything."

He sighed, his shoulders falling. He took a sip of his drink before speaking. "I don't know. Confused, I guess. And kinda worried. Scared. A little nervous."

"Worried? Scared?"

"Yeah. I mean, I'll be terrified if you tell me the kid's mine," he sighed. "At least I'll know it's true this time, and I'm gonna have to learn to provide for it and stuff. But if you tell me it's _not_ mine . . . I don't even know what I'd feel. Relief? Pain?" He shook his head, drinking his soda again. I observed that he seemed to take a sip whenever he felt discomfited.

"Do you want it to be yours?" I murmured.

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "It's a weird thing to think about, you know."

I nodded.

"What about you? Who do you want the dad to be?" Finn questioned.

"Well, like you said, it's a weird thing to think about." I sipped my juice and sighed. "I wonder what people would say if it ends up being Mr. Schue's."

"I dunno."

I closed my eyes for a second. "Am I . . ." I whipped my head around to look at Finn. "Do you think I'm a slut? Honestly. If you weren't in the position you're in right now, would you be calling me a slut behind my back?"

"No, I wouldn't," Finn insisted, shaking his head dynamically. His eyes had widened. "I promise you. That's cruel and I learned the hard way that names can hurt people a lot more than you think." He looked straight ahead. "Wow, that sounded like a cheesy line from a lame TV show. Or one of Mr. Schue's droning speeches."

I couldn't help but laugh a little. "So you don't think I'm a slut, seriously?"

"I don't. You're beautiful and smart and really awesome," he promised, giving a half-smile. I smirked back at him. He really was cute. He fiddled his thumbs and stared down at them, focused keenly. I couldn't tear my eyes away from his face. He pursed his lips.

I took the opportunity to lean across the table and kiss him.


	6. Blood

Quinn's POV

"Did you just kiss me?"

"Yeah."

"Um . . . why?"

"I wanted to."

Suddenly, Finn's lips were crushing mine. His huge callused hand inched across the tabletop until it held mine firmly in his grasp. I'd forgotten how warm his hand was. Adrenaline was wildly racing through my veins. I leaned forward more, deepening the kiss, my hands finding residence on the back of Finn's neck. I pulled him further toward me. He held onto my elbows with both hands.

Finn's mouth moved to my throat. "So does this mean we're together?" He mouthed the words against my skin. I shuddered and closed my eyes at the feel of his lips at the base of my neck. I had to admit; this whole thing would have been a lot better had there not been a table separating us. But we just had to make do with what we had at the moment, and I wasn't about to ruin the moment now.

"Yes," I panted, my fingers tangling in his hair. He lifted his head and smirked at me with that goofy grin. I giggled and pressed my lips to his once again.

"Whoa, am I interrupting?"

I pulled away from Finn and my head whipped around. Burt Hummel stood in the doorway, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He wore a red-and-black plaid flannel shirt, and a dark baseball cap covered his balding head. Finn looked the opposite way, staring at the ground with his eyebrows scrunched together, his lips pressed together tightly. I felt my cheeks flush beet red in total humiliation as Burt cocked an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hummel," I said. I pushed my chair backward and pulled my hand away from Finn's. "I'll just, uh, . . . go hang out with Kurt." I stood up and started toward the basement door.

"Take it easy with her, Finn," I heard Burt mumble as I opened the door. "She's already pregnant."

I bit my lip to keep from exploding with laughter as I trudged down the stairs. Kurt was applying some sort of facial cream. He looked at me in the mirror, and then he spun on his stool to face me.

"Is my dad home?" he asked. "I think I heard him come in the house."

I nodded. "He caught me and Finn kissing upstairs, so I got really embarrassed and came down here."

Kurt laughed. "It's easy to get a little nervy around my father; trust me, I know," he sighed, turning around again. He picked up a container of foundation and began rubbing it on his cheekbones.

"Do you—" Before I could finish my sentence, my cell phone began ringing. I pulled it out of the pocket of my sweater and pressed it to my ear. "Hello?"

"Is this Quinn?"

"Yes. And to whom am I speaking?"

"It's me; Mr. Schuester."

I swallowed hard. "Um . . . hi. How did you . . . get my number?"

"I called your house, but your mother told me she had no clue where you were and gave me the number to your cell phone before hanging up on me," Mr. Schue explained. "She was rather rude over the phone. I'm assuming you told her the truth. And if you don't mind my asking: why are you not at your house and why doesn't your mom know where you are?"

"She kicked me out of the house and I didn't tell her where I was going," I breathed. "I'm currently staying with Kurt and Finn and their parents."

"Ah, I see."

"I don't mean to sound rude, but why, exactly, are you . . . calling me?"

"We need to set up a time to talk about things," he told me. "I know you probably think we said it all earlier today in my office, but there are more things that need to be discussed. For example, if the baby is mine, we'll need to talk about living arrangements for the next nine months and what we'll do regarding whether or not we'll keep the kid."

My heart started beating faster. I was only seventeen! This whole thing was going to be much harder than I'd ever expected. I swallowed hard. "O . . . kay. When d—d—do you wanna meet up?"

"When are you free?"

"Anytime."

"How about . . . this Friday, right after school?"

"Sure."

"Just stick around after Glee and we'll talk."

"Okay. See you tomorrow."

"All right. Have a good night, Quinn."

"You, too, Mr. Schue." I hung up the phone and put it back in my pocket. Kurt stared at me, eyebrows raised. I sighed. "That was Mr. Schuester. He wants to meet up with me Friday after school to talk about things revolving the kid and stuff."

Kurt nodded. "I see." He stood up and crossed the room. "What happened with you and Mr. Schuester, really? I mean, I don't want intricate details. But with Finn, you were drunk. What about with Mr. Schue? And Puck?"

"I went to get something from Mr. Schue's place. We ate dinner and watched a video and things were really kind of silent until . . . I don't know. He just kissed me and things took off." I closed my eyes, pushing the memory to the back of my mind. "A few days before that, I was at Puck's house, and he just sort of talked me into it. Now he wants nothing to do with me because I basically cheated on him."

"Don't feel guilty," Kurt said, placing his hand on my shoulder. "It's Puck's loss, not yours."

I smirked. "Thanks."

Kurt stared down at my stomach. "Why is it that all of the kids you have seem to wreak havoc on more than one life at a time?"

"I have no clue," I laughed. I never took anything as an insult from Kurt. Of course, if Rachel Berry had made the statement Kurt just had, she'd be cringing in pain at the red mark the shape of my hand on her cheek. But Kurt was witty and amusing all the time, so every time he made a joke, it was undoubtedly funny.

"Do you want to hang out or something?" Kurt asked, getting up from his stool.

I shrugged. "Actually, if it's no trouble, I'd just like to take a nap."

"Of course it's no trouble." Kurt grinned. "You can change, if you'd like. All of your clothes are in my dresser. Then just take Finn's bed."

"Thanks." I headed over to Kurt's armoire and retrieved a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt to change into. Once I was comfortable, I put my dress and sweater away and climbed into Finn's bed. It smelled like him. I smiled and curled up in the blankets, taking in the sweet scent of Finn on his pillows. I loved his bed. This was the same one I'd woken up in the night after the party, the one I'd almost pushed Finn off of in an effort to wake him up. But I tried not to think about that. I was only napping in it now. I began drifting slowly until I fell into a deep slumber.

* * *

I opened my eyes slowly and lifted my head. It was dark in the room; someone had turned the lights off. I was lying on my side, the blankets pulled up to my shoulders. I dropped my head back on the pillow and exhaled heavily. As I tried to turn onto my other side, I noticed that there was something warm around my waist, holding me there. I looked down to see an arm. The arm was attached to Finn, who was fast asleep and snoring softly. I smirked at him and turned to check the clock. It was one o'clock in the morning. I'd slept for nine hours, and there was no way I was getting back to sleep now. I slipped out of bed—carefully, so I wouldn't wake Finn—and looked around the room to find something I could do to occupy myself for five hours. I decided on just watching TV. I turned the volume down low and watched the Discovery Channel; nothing else was on.

All of a sudden, a tired voice coming from behind me croaked, "What are you doing?"

I twisted around and saw that Finn was sitting up in bed, smirking at me and running his fingers through his hair. "Watching TV," I replied with a sigh. "I just woke up and decided I couldn't fall back asleep." I turned and began watching TV again. About a minute later, Finn traipsed toward the DVD shelf, picked up a disc, and popped it in the DVD player without showing me what it was. He sat down and put his arm around me, pulling me toward him. He'd chosen to watch _Wedding Crashers _five hours before it was time to wake up for school. I chuckled and snuggled up to him.

"What time is it?" I asked as the movie rounded its end.

Finn squinted at the clock. "Three-thirty," he yawned.

I smiled at him. "We've got two-and-a-half hours before we have to get up for school. You're tired. Go to sleep."

"As long as you're awake," he breathed, "I am, too."

Suddenly, I heard my phone vibrating loudly on the bedside table. The brightness from the screen lit up a small portion of the ceiling. I wondered who would be texting me at this hour. I got to the phone and saw that I received a new text message from Puck. I refrained from rolling my eyes and decided not to tell Finn that I was having a conversation with Puck; instead, I just sat next to Finn on the sofa and kept subtly replying through text message, writing in full sentences, since text language was just idiotic.

_Puck: the kid better be mine_

_Me: And what if it isn't?_

_Puck: im just tellin u that it better be and if it isnt im gonna flip out_

_Me: Are you threatening me or something?_

_Puck: idk, just find out who the dad is cuz i dont wanna hafta deal with not knowin_

_Me: Well, too bad, because I can't get a paternity test until I'm at least eight weeks along._

_Puck: so how many weeks r u now?_

_Me: Around three._

_Puck: fuck dat shit, im not waitin five more weeks_

_Me: Too bad; you have to._

There was no reply after that, no matter how many times I checked my phone. I clenched my teeth and closed my eyes to avoid huffing out an agitated sigh. I snuggled up to Finn's chest and told him again that he should sleep. He didn't answer me, and I looked up to see that he was, in fact, asleep. I sighed and closed my eyes, drifting off soon enough.

* * *

Puck didn't show up for Glee, once again. I was sure he hadn't even come to school this time. It made me mad. Finn had his arm around my shoulders as he sat in the chair next to me, continuously rubbing his tired eyes with his free hand. He yawned as Mr. Schue droned about some lame eighties song.

Rachel had prepared a song for the class. She approached the front of the room and began singing _Broken_ by Seether. She was basically saying that she loved Finn and couldn't stand losing him. Blah, blah, blah. If she didn't have Finn for herself, all she did was whine and cry about how much she loved him. I just wanted to stand up and shout at her. Of course, Finn never had a clue that the song was directed toward him.

When Rachel was done, she blinked her tears away. I applauded her along with the rest of the club, but only halfheartedly; it wasn't like I cared, anyway.

Glee Club was dismissed, and Kurt drove me home. Finn was going to Mike Chang's place to play video games. Kurt and I watched the movie _Titanic _— we were sobbing afterward. It was eight o'clock, since that damn movie was four hours long. Kurt was just putting the movie away when I felt a sharp pain in my stomach. I felt the vomit inching up my throat. I streaked for the bathroom and leaned over the toilet. Kurt was there in an instant, holding my hair. His breathing was irregular.

"I'm sorry," I gasped, closing my eyes. "It's just morning sickness. It'll go away after a few months."

"Quinn, it's n—not . . . it's . . ." Kurt gulped, unable to finish his statement.

"What?"

"It's not vomit, Quinn."

My eyes fluttered open. I gasped and couldn't stand up; I felt too weak. Kurt backed off, and I noticed he had pulled my hair up into a messy bun. My legs shook under my weight. I gripped the edge of the toilet and used all of my strength to push myself up. Once I was standing steadily, I leaned forward and watched as the red liquid swirled down the toilet.

"I threw up blood," I breathed. "What does that mean?"

"Well, it sure as hell isn't a good thing." Kurt grabbed my hand. "Come on; let's go get my dad and we'll get you to the doctor." He pulled me up the stairs and we found Burt and Carole sitting in the kitchen, a magazine between them. Carole was pointing something out to Burt when Kurt said, "We need to get Quinn to the hospital."

The two adults looked up. "Why?" Burt asked.

"She just vomited blood in the toilet downstairs."

"Oh, my!" Carole squeaked, placing her hand over her heart. Burt stood up and announced that he would be bringing the car around. Carole and Kurt held both of my hands, leading me outside as my eyelids drooped slightly. I was feeling dizzy, but I didn't want to tell them.


	7. Fight

**I particularly like this chapter. :) I decided I couldn't have much happen with Quinn and that whole "vomiting blood" situation, but I needed to have some drama to pull people in. :P This chapter has a lot of drama, though!**

**I'm planning ahead already. I've already chosen the father of the baby (under deep consideration), the gender, the name of the kid, and basically the whole plot of this story!**

**For now, enjoy this chapter! :D**

Quinn's POV

"So what happened to me, exactly?" I asked the nurse as she walked me out into the waiting room.

"It was a torn blood vessel," she sighed. "Luckily, it was only minor, so we were able to treat it quickly. You'll be fine. Just take it easy."

I nodded, thanking her. Carole had nearly given herself a heart attack wondering what had happened. When I told her I'd be fine, she sighed in relief and brought me out to the car, where Burt and Kurt were waiting. We'd been at the hospital for several hours now; Finn had decided earlier that he'd be sleeping over Mike's house, so he hadn't even come. We decided we wouldn't tell him.

* * *

The next day was Friday. I remembered I'd have to talk to Mr. Schuester after Glee. I had a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach all day, but I ignored it. Finn and Mike had both come into school hours late, and they could barely keep their eyes open in Glee.

"Did you play video games nonstop last night?" I asked.

"Yeah," Mike replied hoarsely, rubbing his eyes. "My mom was pissed this morning. We slept through most of History class, though."

"It's all good," Finn yawned. "We played Rock Band till, like, two and then moved on to Halo, and then Call Of Duty. It was damn awesome."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "You play the same games over and over again."

"They never get old."

Suddenly, Mr. Schuester stumbled into the room with a troubled expression on his face. The room fell silent. The teacher staggered over toward the piano, placing his bag on top of it. He sighed and turned on his heel to face us, staring at our confused expressions.

"All right," he breathed. "We'll start with the musical number Mike has prepared for us." Mr. Schuester's eyes met the Asian boy's. "Whenever you're ready, Mike."

Tired Mike stood up and dragged his feet to the middle of the room. He blinked fiercely several times and took a deep breath. As the band started to play, Mike struggled to keep his almond-shaped eyes open and alert. He feebly began singing Mike Posner's _Cooler Than Me_. He barely even had the energy to dance, even though he was the best dancer in the club. At the end of the song, he yawned hugely. We all applauded him.

"Good job, Mike," Mr. Schuester praised, patting Mike on the back. "Tell us why you sang that."

"What? Oh, uh . . ." Mike shrugged. "I kinda like someone, but I'm apparently not cool enough for them, so they'd never even think to give me a chance."

"Who is it?" Kurt asked nosily.

Mike sighed, too tired to even care that he was admitting his secret as he said, "Santana."

"Don't give up hope, Mike!" Rachel said enthusiastically. "You may have a chance!"

Santana rolled her eyes and continued filing her nails.

"Okay. You seem tired, Mike. Are you all right?" Mr. Schuester asked.

"I stayed up all night last night. Slept for a few hours this morning, though."

"Ah." Mr. Schue nodded. "Try to get some sleep at night, okay?"

Mike nodded, slogging back to his seat next to Tina.

I waited as the rest of Glee went by slowly. Finn kissed me quickly before plodding out of the room. I sat alone, waiting for Mr. Schue to invite me into his office. Finally, he popped his head out of the door. But as I was about to stand up, he held out his hand, motioning for me to sit back down.

"I need to talk to someone else first," he informed me. "It won't take long. Just sit back for a while, okay?"

I nodded, settling back in my seat. Mr. Schue disappeared in his office and closed the door. I tapped my foot and waited. I was about to stand up and leave the room out of boredom until I heard Mr. Schue's voice rise in his office. I stepped against the wall next to the door so I could hear better. I was eavesdropping, but I didn't care.

"Stop denying it!" Mr. Schuester's muffled yell came from the other side of the door. "I saw what you were doing in the bathroom, Puck, and that's not something that you should be doing _anywhere_, let alone on school grounds!"

My breath caught in my throat. Puck had been in the bathroom doing something inappropriate. My first instinct was that he had been . . . _touching himself_. I shuddered and squeezed my eyes shut.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Puck growled.

"Yes, Puck, you do, and this is a serious matter!" I heard Mr. Schuester's hands slam on his desk. "Look, you're going to confess to me right now, or this could get out of hand! The police could get involved when they don't need to! You've just got to learn to admit you have a problem and let me help you, Puck."

"I don't have a problem." Puck's voice broke on the last word. "It's my business, and I wasn't doing what you think I was doing."

Mr. Schue huffed out a sigh. "Puck, I saw you sitting against the wall with your head tilted back – _Bottle. Of. Pills. In. Hand_. And if that's 'not what I think it is,' then I honestly have no clue what you possibly could have been doing there!"

I gasped and covered my mouth with my hand. Puck was doing drugs? He couldn't have been depressed, could he?

Was it my fault?

Of course it was my fault! He wanted the kid to be his; he'd said so. So he hadn't been threatening me after all. He'd decided to hurt himself for the damage I'd done. I knew it was all my fault. That was the only possible cause. Even Puck wouldn't just do drugs for no reason.

"Okay, fine, so I was swallowing those pills," Puck admitted. "But I'll stop now. It's no big deal."

"For how long have you had a drug problem?" Mr. Schue asked.

Puck was silent.

"_Puck_."

"I just started taking them yesterday," Puck said. "I dunno how many I've had in all so far. But what I do know is that I crashed as soon as I took them yesterday. I'm not really feeling tired or dizzy or anything right now, though."

"Okay, well, you can't just promise me you'll stop taking the pills. You've got to get help, Puck. That's the only way you'll be able to stop taking them."

"But . . . I honestly don't want to stop," Puck murmured. "They make me feel . . . okay for a while, you know? With all the pressure I'm under, it's easy to just forget about it and go on with life the way I want it to."

"That may be the easy way," Mr. Schue mumbled, "but it's not the healthy way."

"I know."

"So we'll get you help."

"No."

"Puck."

"What?"

"We have to."

"No, we don't!"

"Yes, we do! We absolutely do!"

Suddenly, there was a loud _thump_. I hadn't even noticed the tears dribbling over my hand as it still covered my mouth. Mr. Schue continuously shouted Puck's name. I got worried and flung the door open. Puck was lying on the ground, his eyes closed. The chair he had been sitting on was tipped over beside him. Mr. Schue was gripping Puck's shoulder, shaking him violently.

The teacher glanced at me quickly, and then he turned his attention back to Puck. "Call nine-one-one," Mr. Schue ordered me through clenched teeth. "Hurry."

I yanked my phone out and my shaking thumbs skimmed the keypad. I pressed the phone to my ear and inhaled shakily, preparing what I would say.

"Nine-one-one. What's your emergency?"

"Someone has passed out at William McKinley High School. It's on the second floor in Will Schuester's office; room C06," I uttered.

"What's the victim's name?"

"Noah Puckerman," I stammered.

"Does he have a pulse?"

I asked Mr. Schue to check Puck's pulse. He pressed two fingers to Puck's throat and kept them there. He shook his head dynamically and angrily began trying to wake Puck up.

"No pulse," I whispered.

"And what did you say the name of the school was?"

"William McKinley High School," I repeated.

"Do you know exactly what happened?"

I gulped. "I do know that he swallowed some pills yesterday and today. He said that he crashed after he took the pills yesterday, but he felt fine today."

"We'll send an ambulance over there right away."

"Thank you." I took a deep breath as I put the phone back in my pocket. I backed against the wall as Mr. Schuester began forcing his hands against Puck's chest, counting to himself. He started giving Puck mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. I closed my eyes; I couldn't watch Mr. Schue as he tried to revive my temporarily dead ex-boyfriend lying limp on the carpet.

I kept repeating the word in my mind. _Temporarily. Temporarily._

Mr. Schue felt around for Puck's nonexistent pulse again. He cursed under his breath and continued with the CPR.

_Temporarily. Temporarily._

The sirens of the ambulance sounded outside. My eyes squeezed shut even tighter and my heartbeat accelerated. I heard shouting from the bottom floor as paramedics burst through the front door. Principal Figgins' strong Indian accent yelled louder than the rest as his voice boomed throughout the lobby. I could tell that at least one paramedic stopped to talk to the principal as the rest of the guys climbed the stairs. They found Mr. Schue's office and stormed in, yelling out things that I couldn't hear. I refused to open my eyes still.

_Temporarily. Temporarily._

I heard Mr. Schue huff loudly. My eyes fluttered open. The teacher had been shoved aside and was now standing with his shoulders squared, breathing deeply as he watched the paramedics hunch over Puck. One of them compressed her hands intensely against Puck's chest as another paramedic lifted Puck's chin and breathed for him. More were shouting orders at each other.

The word I'd been repeating in my head slowly faded.

I wanted so badly to open my mouth and scream at Puck, to order him to wake up and walk away with no harm done. He couldn't die here; not now, not like this. I couldn't seem to open my mouth, let alone say something. And it wasn't as if he would hear me, anyway.

"Come on, Quinn," a soothing voice said in my ear. Mr. Schuester placed his hands on my forearms. "Let's get you out of here."

"He can't die," I whispered as my eyes moved back to Puck.

"He won't." Mr. Schue gently urged me forward. I resisted at first, but when he insisted that I really should go, I let him haul me out of the room. I took a deep breath and crossed the hall, pressing my forehead against the cool white wall. Mr. Schue closed the door after him. He sighed. I closed my eyes and made no effort to stop crying.

"Why won't he wake up?" I asked, even though I didn't really want an answer.

"His body is reacting to those pills negatively," Mr. Schuester breathed. "It was a heavy intake of drugs. Since it's only the second day he's taken the pills and he swallowed too much, it did a lot of harm to him."

"But why was he taking them in the first place?" I knew the answer to that one.

"I don't know. I assume he's truly unhappy with things," the teacher said. "That's usually the reason."

"He's unhappy with me," I grumbled.

"No, Quinn, don't—"

I spun around. "It _is_ my fault. I'm being serious, Mr. Schue. He was really upset by the fact that I slept with two other guys in the same week I slept with him because we were _dating_ and I _cheated_ on him. He told me he loved me and that he wanted to keep the baby with me. It absolutely _killed_ me to tell him that I don't know if the kid is his, because he meant what he said. He honestly and truly wanted to be with me for the rest of our lives. And now I'm back with Finn and Puck wants nothing to do with me if the baby isn't his."

Mr. Schue stepped toward me. "Quinn, it's hurting you; I get it. But don't blame yourself. There could be so much more behind this than you know."

I bit my lip and shook my head, looking down. Mr. Schue put his hand under my chin and lifted my head up so that we were looking into each other's eyes.

"This was Puck's choice," he assured me softly. "You didn't force him to do this; therefore, it isn't your fault. He may have chosen to do this because he's disturbed by all of the baby daddy drama, but you're not the one who chose to talk him into swallowing pills manically to relieve himself of the stress. He should have tried to talk to you if it bothered him so much."

Before I knew it, we were hugging again. I exhaled heavily into his chest and my tears seeped into the fabric of his shirt. I closed my eyes and sniffed.

"Um, Quinn?"

I backed up and turned to see Finn standing there, confused.

"I was waiting for you in my car; I thought you'd be right out," Finn muttered, eyeing Mr. Schue. "I saw the ambulance and figured something was going on, so . . ."

"Puck passed out in my office," Mr. Schuester explained. "There was a problem and he just collapsed. Paramedics are working on him in there right now. Quinn was supposed to talk to me in my office after Glee, but we never got the chance to."

Finn nodded. "Oh. Is Puck okay?"

"We don't know."

"Are _you_ okay, Quinn?" Finn asked worriedly.

I wiped away my tears and nodded meekly. I then turned to Mr. Schue. "I think I should go. We should talk another time."

"Actually, I think later today should suffice." The teacher smirked. "Just stop by whenever."

I nodded in agreement and held my hand out for him to shake. He chuckled once and shook it, making our deal official. I grinned and nodded once at him. I then turned to Finn. He put his arm around my shoulders and glanced at Mr. Schue quickly. They said goodbye to each other, and Finn led me out of the school.

"So you're going to his house later?"

"Yeah. I have to," I told Finn. "It's really necessary."

"Why?"

"We need to sort things out. He's our teacher, Finn. It's going to be so confusing if the baby is his," I explained.

Finn rolled his eyes. "And what if it isn't? _Then_ how awkward will it be?"

I rolled my eyes right back at him in response. He sighed. The car ride was totally silent at first. I fidgeted in my seat and needed something to break the silence. I could only think of one thing.

"I went to the hospital last night."

He glanced at me. "You went to the hospital?"

"Yes. I vomited blood so Kurt told Carole and Burt, and we went to the hospital. It was just a broken blood vessel; they fixed it," I said. "It wasn't a big deal."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"You slept over Mike's house and you were tired today," I sighed. "Why would we want to worry you over something that's not serious?"

"Because you went to the _hospital_, Quinn!" he exclaimed. "You threw up blood! What if something bad really did happen? Would you have told me then?"

"Of course. But nothing bad _did_ happen, so I don't understand what the big deal is!"

Finn exhaled roughly through his nose. "It's not. Just forget it."

"Kurt's right; you have anger issues. You just started yelling at me for no damn reason!" I shouted.

"I was just kinda shocked, okay?"

"Oh, please."

He pulled into the driveway and the two of us got out of the car. He ran to keep up with me, calling out from across the walkway, "Will you just forget it? Jesus Christ, Quinn; you need to calm down."

I yanked the front door open. "First, watch your language. And second, don't tell me to calm down, all right?"

"Well, it's true. You really need to."

"Oh, my goodness!" I stopped in the middle of the living room to face him. "This is ridiculous, Finn! _Nothing happened_; the doctors fixed it and I'm absolutely fine, okay? You started screaming out of nowhere! This is the stupidest fight ever, so can you just stop acting like such a child?"

"I'm tired of people calling me immature!" Finn growled. "Maybe _you're_ the one being immature!"

"But I'm _not_."

Finn mimicked me contemptuously, rolling his eyes.

So I slapped him.

His head had turned sideways as I hit him. His fingers brushed along the spot that was rapidly turning red. He looked at me with dark eyes. His face flushed, but it wasn't as red as the mark my hand had left on his face quite yet. "Don't fucking hit me!" he hissed, pulling his arm back. I yelped as his strong hand whipped across my cheek, leaving me stumbling backward and collapsing onto the ground. My hand felt the suddenly throbbing spot on my face. My eyes began tearing up at the unexpected severe pain. Finn was breathing deeply. I closed my eyes and was surprised that Finn, the gentle giant, had hit a girl.

And that girl was me. His girlfriend.

"What the hell is goin' on here?" Burt bellowed as he romped into the room, his heavy boots dragging along the floor. "Quinn, you okay? Why are you on the floor?"

I opened my eyes to see him leaning over, holding his hand out toward me. I took it willingly and let him pull me to my feet. I stood shakily, holding his wrists. Finn wasn't in the room anymore.

"What happened?"

"Finn and I were fighting, and he made me really angry, so I—I slapped him. I couldn't help it. But then he hit me back, and I fell to the floor; he's too strong."

"He _hit_ you?" Burt asked in disbelief, his eyes widening.

"Yes," I replied. "He slapped me across the face with enough force to send me to the ground."

Burt shook his head. "I don't even . . . I need to go tell Carole. She'll know how to handle him."

And with that, Burt disappeared into the kitchen. I sat down on the edge of the couch uneasily. My fingertips gently pressed against my face. The hand-shaped mark burned, and I could tell that it was redder than the rest of my face. I inhaled erratically.

"_Finn Hudson_!" Carole screamed from the kitchen; it made me jump. "_Get in here right now_!"

After a few silent moments, Finn's footsteps echoed throughout the house. I knew when he entered the kitchen because Carole and Burt began screeching in unison. I covered my ears angrily, but I could still hear barely audible piercing nonsense. I scrambled across the room and stumbled down the stairs, finding Kurt sitting on his bed with headphones in his ears. I sat right next to him. He paused the music and stared at me questioningly.

"Your parents are screaming at Finn," I told him.

"May I ask why?"

"He hit me."

He scrolled through his music absentmindedly. "And may I, yet again, ask why?"

"We were fighting out of absurdity and he started getting annoying, so I slapped him, and he hit my so hard that I fell to the ground," I breathed. "I guess I sort of asked for it, but—"

Kurt's eyes widened; it seemed like he suddenly let what I'd previously said sink in. "Guys aren't supposed to hit girls!" he exclaimed, tossing his iPod and headphones onto his bedside table. "You didn't ask for it, not matter what you did! That's totally uncalled for!"

"Yeah, but—"

"_Quinn_. He's a very troubled boy; I see that clearly now."

**Love it? Hate it? Lemme know!**


	8. Pills

**I love, love, _love_ this chapter! :D**

Quinn's POV

"Is this a bad time?"

"No, of course not. I told you that you could come whenever you wanted."

"Oh, yeah. Well, Mr. and Mrs. Hummel are yelling at Finn and I was with Kurt for a few minutes, but I just had to get out of there."

"Ah, I see." Mr. Schuester gestured for me to enter his apartment. I went straight to the living room and sat down. Mr. Schue decided to sit on the complete opposite side of the sofa; I felt more comfortable that way. "So why are they yelling at Finn?"

"It's a long story," I sighed. "Basically, we were fighting and he hit me. I'm fine, though; it's just kind of stinging." I placed my fingers on my left cheek.

"Oh, I see it now," Mr. Schue said, leaning forward to examine the red burning spot on my face. "It looks bad. Are you sure you're all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I hit him first, and I know he has some anger management issues, so I guess it wasn't much of a surprise that he would lose it easily."

Mr. Schue nodded. "Well, now there are some important things we need to take care of."

"Yup."

"I have a question first, though. When can there finally be a paternity test?" he asked.

"When I'm eight weeks. I'm only three weeks along now," I told him.

"If the baby is mine, would you want to keep him?" As he said this, Mr. Schuester stood up and entered the kitchen. I assumed he was going to get a drink or something.

"_Him_? I don't know if the baby is a boy yet."

"If the gender is unknown, it's appropriate to use the masculine pronoun," the teacher explained from the other room. I nodded to myself in understanding. I heard some type of liquid pouring into a cup, and it was definitely apparent to me then that Mr. Schuester was getting a drink.

"Oh. I should have known that," I mumbled. "I have an A in English."

Mr. Schue chuckled as he entered the room again. He held two clear glasses in his hand, both filled with water. "I didn't know what you'd like so I just got us both water," he explained, putting one glass on the coffee table in front of me. He took a sip of his and sat back down, putting his glass on the table in the process.

"Thank you." I took a small sip and looked at him, waiting for his next question.

He smirked. "You haven't answered me yet," he reminded me.

"Oh, right." I grinned. "Um . . . I'm not going to abort it. I know that for a fact. And as for giving it up for adoption, I have no clue at this point. It's still really early. What do you think?"

His smirk widened into a smile. "It doesn't matter to me. I'm not a teenager, Quinn; I'm ready to raise a child no matter who the mother is."

I'd forgotten about that. He wasn't Finn or Puck. He wasn't a previous or a current boyfriend of mine. He was my teacher. The hottest teacher in the school, no doubt. But still my teacher, and possibly the father of my child. I couldn't believe I'd slept with the guy that every single girl in school had had dirty fantasies about at one time or another; my daydreams had unquestionably become authenticities, and now I was dealing with the penalty of it.

I nodded. "That's true. But I still want your honest input. If we keep it—err, _him_—will we have to live together?"

"That's your choice," he replied honestly. "If you're not comfortable, you can continue living where you are."

"But that would be awkward because I'm living with Finn. If the baby isn't his, I'll have to raise someone else's kid with Finn around."

"I guess so. But it's ultimately up to you, as I said. You could even move in with someone else," Mr. Schuester suggested. "Didn't you live with Mercedes for some time before Beth was born?"

"Yeah, that's true." I swallowed hard and looked down, staring as my fingers entwined over my stomach. It was mind-blowing to try to picture a ball of cells rapidly dividing and shaping itself into a miniature human being. It was happening, though, right under my clammy hands, even if I couldn't see it. "But if it isn't too much trouble . . . I'd rather just live here with you and the baby. A kid should have two parents, right?"

"Right." Mr. Schue smiled. "As long as you're contented, it's absolutely fine with me."

I grinned at the man who was eight years older than me. It wasn't a big difference; not a _huge_ one, at least. I was seventeen, and he was twenty-five. Sure, it wasn't a normal thing to have a teenage girl's baby daddy eight years older than her, but that's how things were (if the kid was Mr. Schuester's after all) and I had to deal with it. I wasn't complaining; my baby with Mr. Schue would be beautiful, to say at the least. And I had friends whose parents were decades apart in age. One girl on the Cheerios squad had a mother who was turning forty, and her father was sixty-five. I'd almost gagged when she had first mentioned it, but now I certainly wasn't one to judge.

"Cool." I nodded once. "So . . . would I still have to call you Mr. Schue?"

"Not if you don't want to."

"Okay. I'll hold off on that one until I know if you're the dad."

"So does that mean you want to keep him?" Mr. Schuester asked after a few moments.

I bit my lip and looked down again. "Yes."

"Good," the teacher breathed. "Now all that's left is to find out if I'm the father." And with that, he bid me goodbye and patted me on the back. I trekked out of his apartment with a weight lifted off my chest; everything with Mr. Schuester was settled. Now I'd have to face Finn, and I knew that, eventually, I would have to deal with Puck.

If he ever woke up.

I stopped dead in my tracks, my eyes widening. Quickly, I spun on my heel and sprinted back up the stairs. I frantically knocked on Mr. Schue's door before he opened it. He asked what was wrong. I held up a finger, struggling to catch my breath before I could even try to speak. I sucked in a deep breath.

"I need to know if Puck's okay," I panted.

"They took him to the hospital after you left with Finn. They're going to call me when we're allowed to visit," he explained.

"And are they going to give you updates on what's happening?"

"I don't think so."

I shoved my face in my hands and wept, right there in the middle of the hall. Mr. Schuester was instantly consoling me. I angrily shoved him away and began to run toward the hospital.

* * *

"Where's Noah Puckerman?"

"Excuse me, but who are you?"

"Tell me where he is!" I demanded, slamming my hands against the reception desk.

"Please lower your voice," the woman behind the desk said in a soft tone. "I need your name first."

"Quinn Fabray," I said through clenched teeth.

"All right." Her eyes moved to the computer screen, and she didn't look up as she asked, "You're looking for Noah Puckerman?"

I didn't answer.

"You can't see him right now. They're currently trying to revive him," the woman told me, looking up. "But I'd be happy to keep you posted on what's happening.

I nodded, thanked her, and went to sit on one of the chairs in the waiting room. I crossed my ankles and felt my hands shaking; I was just so damn nervous. I took a deep, slow breath and closed my eyes. I tried to assure myself that Puck would be okay, that he'd stand up and walk out of the hospital with his cocky, look-at-me smirk showing proudly. But I honestly just didn't know.

My throat rapidly became dry, but I just couldn't bring myself to stand and go to the cafeteria to get a drink.

* * *

I hadn't even realized that I'd fallen asleep until I was woken up by a light tapping on my arm. I rubbed my eyes as I sat up, blinking hard as I looked for whoever had tapped me. I looked down and saw a little girl smiling widely up at me. Her pale blond hair was pulled up into two high ponytails on either side of her head. Her bangs hung neatly over her forehead. Her hands were balled into fists, placed firmly on her hips. She had dimples on her cheeks and bright blue eyes that glistened. The rose pink dress she wore hung around her knees, and her silver ballet flats were tight together.

"Hello," she greeted me in a cheerful tone, her smile widening, if that was even possible. "What's your name?"

"Quinn," I told her, smirking slightly.

"I'm Josie," she announced. "I saw that you were sleeping over here all alone and I was wondering if you lost your mommy."

"No, I'm okay," I assured her. "I'm waiting for my friend."

"All by yourself?"

"Yes," I laughed quietly, blinking slowly.

"I know what it's like to lose your mommy 'cause I lost mine once. I was only four and I was in the store, but now I'm five and Mommy even lets me get the milk for her all by myself," Josie said happily.

"That's very nice."

"Yup, sure is!" she exclaimed. She was really cute. I wondered if Beth would have acted like that if I'd kept her. Were all little girls this cute? If so, I definitely wanted one. I silently began telling myself that I wanted to have a girl.

"Josie," a young woman said suddenly, approaching Josie and grabbing her hand. "We don't talk to strangers, remember?"

"Yes," Josie huffed, leaning over slightly. Out of the blue, she straightened her back and her arm sprang up, her finger pointing right at me. "I just thought Quinn lost her mommy, that's all!"

The woman looked at me and half-smiled. "I'm sorry. She's very outgoing and loves making new friends; she just doesn't understand yet that there's a limit for who she can befriend."

I shrugged. "It's okay. She's very cute, by the way," I giggled.

"Thank you!" the woman chimed, lifting Josie up to her hip. "We've got to go now, but I can just say I'm glad she ran into you instead of some sort of rapist." She grinned once more and carried Josie away. I wondered what kind of rapist looking for little girls would hang out at a hospital to find them. I was just about to giggle slightly when I heard the woman behind the desk talking to me.

"Quinn Fabray?"

I turned to face her. "Yes?" I asked, approaching the desk.

She didn't give me her usual friendly, welcoming smile. Instead, she was frowning sympathetically, her eyes full of sincerity. Her eyebrows were together, and that completed her sad expression. "They tried everything they could," she whispered. "But I'm very sorry to say that it wasn't enough. They couldn't get him back." She paused slightly. "He's gone."

I blinked several times. "What?"

"He's gone," she repeated.

_I heard you!_ I wanted to scream. I squeezed my lips into a tight line instead.

"They've decided to allow you to see him, if you'd like."

Why would I want to stare at Puck's dead body? Why would I want to torture myself, to sit there and know he'd never be back? He would never hold my hand again. He would never kiss me again. He wouldn't be there if the baby was his. He would never know that he was a father, if he truly was. Worst of all: he would never tell me he loved me ever again. Why would I want to stand there and look at him, reminding myself of all that in one short moment?

For the oddest reason in the world, I _did_.

I nodded slowly. The woman led me down the hall. I staggered after her unsteadily, my hands shaking the whole way. I could hear my own heart beating in my ears. When we reached the room, I swallowed hard, dryness stinging my throat before I stepped into the room after her.

And there he was.

He was lying limp on the bed, a blanket covering him from the neck down, tucked tightly under his body. His veiny eyelids were covering his eyes. His lips were purple and his face had a sickeningly pale shade.

It wasn't even a question; _he was dead_.

I would never be able to hug him again. I'd never feel his soft lips against mine. I wouldn't be able to look into his perfect hazel eyes. I squeezed my eyes shut and struggled to even recall the days he smirked and greeted me with, "Sup, MILF?"

I slowly approached the bedside and lifted the blanket a bit. His hand lay there motionless. Gently, I slid my fingers between his and held his hand tightly in mine. It was cold, but I didn't care. I wished he could be alive, snatching my hand out of nowhere when I least expected it like he used to do.

"Puck?" I croaked. "Can you hear me?"

He didn't answer. I still felt that little twinge of hope, wishing his eyes would suddenly flutter open and he'd grin cockily at me. But nothing happened.

"Puck, please. Answer me."

Nothing.

I forced back my tears. I wasn't going to cry here. Not now. I was sad, but I'd save all the tears for later. Unwillingly, I put Puck's hand down and covered it with the blanket once again. I nodded once at the woman, signaling to her that I wanted to go now. She gestured for me to walk in front of her. I did, loping down the hall while staring at my shoes, a frown set on my face. She bid me goodbye as I exited the hospital, walking slowly through the sheet of rain. It was getting heavier with each step I took. I ignored it. My mind seemed to be completely empty. I made my way to the Hudson-Hummel house and went inside, taking off my drenched sweater.

"Quinn," Finn breathed, suddenly appearing in front of me. "I need to talk to you."

I hung up my sweater and stayed silent, my eyes glued to the floor.

"Look, I'm really sorry I hit you. I started that stupid argument and it got out of hand," he recalled, shaking his head. "That wasn't me back there. It was a mistake; I'm sorry."

I nodded, ruffling my soaking wet hair. "I get it."

"So you're not mad?"

"I'm mad, but I'm not mad at _you_."

"Then why are you mad?" Finn asked, following me as I walked toward the living room. I sat down slowly, perching on the edge of the sofa. Finn flopped down next to me. His innocent brown eyes were fixed on my face.

I closed my eyes. "Puck was doing drugs earlier and he just collapsed in Mr. Schue's office. They tried to revive him. I went to the hospital to see if he was okay, but . . . it was too late," I explained. "They couldn't do anything. He's . . . gone."

Finn stared at me, lips parting. "Like . . . dead?"

"Yes, Finn. He's dead."

I didn't want to cry in front of Finn. The only possible excuse would be that I was crying over Puck, and that would sure set Finn off, no matter how he decided to show his emotions. I was dating Finn; I had to focus on him, to put him in the front of my mind. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get over the way I wasn't able to push aside the fact that I still loved Puck.

But he was gone now.


	9. Funeral

**Summary So Far:** Quinn and Will have planned out what they're going to do if the baby is Will's; they'll keep it and live in his apartment. Quinn is dating Finn now, but she can't seem to get over the fact that she stills loves Puck. Will found out that Puck was doing drugs, and Puck suddenly collapsed in Will's office. They tried to revive him at the hospital, but it was too late. Now Quinn's as confused as ever.

* * *

Quinn's POV

My teeth were clenched together. I didn't even bother wiping away my rapidly falling tears. My clammy hands were entwined in front of me as I stared down at the damp green grass. Wind blew around me, tossing my blond hair in front of my face. Finn stood tall next to me, and Mr. Schue was on my other side. Surrounding them was the rest of the Glee Club. Miss Pillsbury stood there as well. Then there was Puck's mother and his little sister Sarah. While Mrs. Puckerman wept audibly, Sarah cried softly and snuffled gently once in a while. Completing the group were parents of the members of Glee Club and other people I didn't know.

"I understand that Finn Hudson has prepared a speech to read today," Puck's grandfather said aloud. "Would you like to come up and read now?"

Finn walked forward slowly. Puck's grandfather nodded once and stepped aside as Finn stood in front of everyone, a piece of paper in his hands. He took a deep breath before speaking. "I met Puck in the beginning of freshman year. I remember him specifically as the swaggering kid with a Mohawk who randomly walked up to me and told me to try out for the football team. When I asked this kid—who I'd never seen before—why, he said, 'You're the only guy I can see here who isn't a douchebag. Congratulations; you're now friends with the Puckster.' It took me a second to realize that he was referring to himself as my new friend."

I bit my lip with great force, my eyes glancing at the black coffin that I knew held Puck's dead body. I cried harder and looked back down again.

"As we became better friends, I realized that he had dated almost every girl in school. He was well-known for that; girls fell over him, and guys definitely respected him," Finn recalled. "I _worshipped _him for the fact that he could have any girl he wanted. Later on, I met Quinn Fabray, the head cheerleader. I really, _really_ liked her. Plus, I was the quarterback, so I knew we'd be unstoppable together. It was only when I started dating her that Puck admitted to me a few times that he had eyes for her, too, but he promised he'd stay away."

I closed my eyes.

"Then Quinn told me she was pregnant," Finn continued. "I was scared to death. Puck did everything he could to talk some sense into me and to get me to stop acting like it was all about me. I remember wondering why he suddenly got so defensive when Quinn came into any conversation. When it was revealed to me that I wasn't the father of Quinn's baby—even though we were dating—I can truly say that I was _furious_. And hearing that Puck, my best friend in the world, had gone behind my back and impregnated my girlfriend made me feel even worse."

My eyes fluttered open when Mr. Schue put his hand on my back. Finn glimpsed at me quickly.

"I was really mad at Puck and Quinn. That's all I knew. But what I didn't understand was how I could lose my absolute best friend over a mistake that I now realize anyone could have made. It wasn't smart for Puck to do that to me—and to Quinn, for that matter—and it definitely wasn't nice at all. But I'm not smart. I'm not nice all the time, either. Even when Puck tried to apologize, I couldn't get over what had happened, and I just ignored him." Finn shook his head. "I just wish I'd never ignored him when he tried to tell me he was sorry."

I leaned against Mr. Schue, and he kept his hand on my shoulder. We couldn't get too cuddly; everyone in Glee Club and parents were surrounding us.

"Eventually, after Quinn had her baby, Puck and I became friends again. We weren't quite back to our whole 'best friend' thing, as much as I desperately wanted us to be," Finn said hoarsely. "We still hung out sometimes, but not often. We _did _see each other daily, but that was only because we both played football and were in Glee together." He paused before continuing on. "When I heard that he died, I didn't know what to think. I was sad. I couldn't even understand that he was just . . . _gone_. That was it. I'd never see him again."

A sob escaped my lips.

"I'll miss Puck. I always knew him as Puck; not Noah, but Puck. That was what he liked to be called, and that was what he'd called himself from the first day I met him." Finn swallowed hard, getting choked up. He was crying. "I won't forget him. I thought I hated him at one point, but I could never really hate him. He was just that important." He put the paper down for a moment, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a picture. "This is the picture Puck and I took when we won our first game freshman year. It's really the one that shows the start of a true friendship."

In the photograph, both boys were clad in their red football jerseys—Finn was number five and Puck was twenty—standing shoulder to shoulder. It was back when Puck still had a Mohawk and Finn's hair was untrimmed and messily unkempt. They were laughing aloud; you could tell by the way the corners of their wide-open opens curved upward. Puck's hand was on Finn's shoulder, and Finn held his helmet in the air. In the background, the rest of the team was celebrating their win.

Finn placed the picture on top of the coffin. "Goodbye, man," he said quietly, his voice cracking. "I'll miss you." He patted the casket as if he were slapping Puck on the back gently. He completely forgot about the paper he'd read his speech off of and returned to his place next to me. I leaned to my other side, collapsing into Finn's arms. He tried to subtly wipe his tears away, but everyone already knew he was crying. He rubbed my back as I wept into his chest.

"Now we have a musical number prepared," Puck's grandfather announced. "The Glee Club, in which Noah was a part of, wants to sing something. Under the direction of William Schuester, we—"

"Excuse me, Mr. Puckerman." Rachel slowly took a step forward. "I'd like to say something first."

Puck's grandfather nodded and stepped aside. Rachel sniffled and rubbed her red, irritated eyes. Her cheeks were tear-stained, but she didn't seem to mind. She wore a black knee-length dress with a knitted sweater of a lighter shade over it. "I'm very upset that Puck has passed. It's going to be incredibly hard for me to deal with. Puck didn't know this—he never will—and nobody else does, either. I figure that since Puck's family, my friends, and my dads are here, it will be easier to let you all know at once." She swallowed hard, looking down. "I'm pregnant."

My eyelids fluttered open. Many in the crowd gasped. I looked up at Finn's face; he was in what could be explained as nothing but absolute awe. I whipped my head around to see everyone else. Mr. Schue, Miss Pillsbury, and almost all of the Glee Club gaped in trepidation. Mrs. Puckerman stared at Rachel with wide, tear-filled eyes. Rachel's dads both had their hands over their hearts. The other guests—there had to be at least eighty more people there—gawked.

And then it hit me: Rachel Berry and I might be sharing the same baby daddy. I shuddered at the thought.

"It is Puck's child," Rachel clarified before anyone could ask. "He took my virginity only days before he passed." She bit her lip and shook her head as more tears dribbled down her cheeks. "I'm not proud of it; we just got far too carried away that night. I couldn't believe it when I heard he died. I don't know what I'm going to do. I just want to say I am sorry to anyone who's disappointed in me, and I'm going to keep this baby; it will be Noah Puckerman's flesh and blood, and I can't just hand that off." Rachel ducked her head low and went back to her place next to Tina, who immediately wrapped her arms around the short brunette. Tina was soon joined by Mercedes, and Kurt and Mike patted Rachel on the shoulder.

"Now we'll get to the musical number."

Mr. Schue approached the front of the group, motioning for the club to join him. We did just that. Finn had to grip my hand and pull me forward a bit, but I did end up standing with nine other singers. Rachel, Finn, Mike, Artie, and I stood in the front row, and Santana, Mercedes, Brittany, Tina, and Kurt were behind us. Brad had even joined us at the funeral so he could play the piano. Mr. Schuester stood beside Brad and told him to start playing. As he played the first few notes in the song, everyone in the club except Rachel sang the note "ooh" in time and pitch with the piano music. Rachel began singing the first verse.

"_Spend all your time waiting  
__For that second chance,  
__For a break that would make it okay.  
__There's always some reason  
__To feel not good enough.  
__And it's hard at the end of the day.  
__I need some distraction.  
__Oh, beautiful release."_

Mercedes squeezed her eyes shut and took over for Rachel.

"_Memories seep from my veins.  
__Let me be empty,  
__Oh, and weightless and maybe  
__I'll find some peace tonight."_

We all joined together then, softly.

"_In the arms of the angel,  
__Fly away from here,  
__From this dark, cold hotel room  
__And the endlessness that you fear.  
__You are pulled from the wreckage  
__Of your silent reverie.  
__You're in the arms of the angel.  
__May you find  
__Some comfort here."_

Still squeezing my hand, Finn began to sing.

"_So tired of the straight line,  
__And everywhere you turn  
__There's vultures and thieves at your back.  
__And the storm keeps on twisting.  
__You keep on building the lie.  
__That you make up for all that you lack.  
__It don't make no difference  
__Escaping one last time."_

Kurt had tears in his eyes, but he tried not to let them fall as he sang.

"_It's easier to believe  
__In this sweet madness,  
__This glorious sadness  
__That brings me to my knees."_

Once again, we all sang together, this time all joining hands.

"_In the arms of the angel,  
__Fly away from here,  
__From this dark, cold hotel room  
__And the endlessness that you fear.  
__You are pulled from the wreckage  
__Of your silent reverie.  
__You're in the arms of the angel.  
__May you find  
__Some comfort here."_

There were tears in the eyes of almost everyone there, even in those of the guys who tried to be tough. There was a quiet applause as we went back to our places in front of the group. I started to cry into Finn's chest again, and he held me tightly, rubbing my back soothingly.

"We will miss Noah Puckerman," Puck's grandfather sighed. "He was a good kid. He will forever be in our hearts."

My mind was racing as the service ended and everyone started hugging each other. Rachel's dads quickly embraced a few people and then brought Rachel home. Finn didn't let go of me once as we were approached by people in Puck's family.

"I've never cried in public before. I feel like such a wuss." Finn wiped his tears away.

"Don't. Puck was your best friend," I reminded him. "Everyone understands."

He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. I clung to him further and we loomed toward Mr. Schuester and Miss Pillsbury.

"I want to try those daily sessions with you again, Miss P," I said. "It'll really help me deal with this."

The guidance counselor smirked. "Of course, Quinn."

I stared down at my stomach, which was, to my delight, still flat. I was ten weeks along now, and I had been so worked up about Puck that I hadn't even thought to get a paternity test as soon as I was nine weeks. Now that the funeral was over with, though, I'd get it done as soon as possible.

Mr. Schue smiled. "That was a very inspiring speech, Finn. You did a good job."

"Thanks, Mr. Schue," Finn said, smirking.

The two of them continued talking, and Finn finally released my hand. I wandered around, not sure where to go or who to talk to. I ended up standing right in front of the coffin. I stared down at it, knowing that Puck was right underneath the black cover. I could just lift it up and stare at him. But I left it as it was. I looked at the picture of Finn and Puck that Finn had left there again, and then realized he'd left the paper there. I picked it up and flipped it over in my hand. It was blank on both sides. My eyebrows came together as I registered my thoughts.

Everything Finn had said came from his memory.

My heart melted. Finn didn't need words written on a paper to remember his best friend, to think of all the important milestones in their friendship. And that meant Finn truly loved Puck as a friend. I left the paper there and returned to Finn's side, hooking arms with him. Mr. Schuester and Miss Pillsbury bid us goodbye as we walked toward Finn's car.

"You loved Puck, didn't you? As a friend, I mean."

Finn climbed into the driver's side of the car. He hesitated before answering. "Well . . . yeah. I mean, he was my best friend. He helped me through everything."

I nodded. "I thought so."


	10. Sleepover

**I love this chapter! :D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee, as sad as that is. But I do own all five CDs and the clothes and a recording of every episode thus far!**

**P.S. This is for you, Elastic Owl!**

Quinn's POV

I sat in the waiting room of the doctor's office, wondering when the nurse would come to get me. I was reading a magazine, one that I really didn't care for, but my options were limited. Several women around me sat with their husbands as they waited for their ultrasound appointments. I felt so out of place as a pregnant teenage girl sitting alone at the OB/GYN office while Finn was outside trying to get a hold of Mr. Schuester and Puck's mother. I slouched in my chair and continued reading an article on what a pregnant woman should eat throughout the nine months.

"Quinn Fabray?" I looked up to see a woman that must have been in her twenties saying my name. She wore pink scrubs and held a clipboard at her side. Her pale blond hair was pulled up into a ponytail, and she smiled friendlily.

"That's me," I said, putting the magazine down and standing up.

"I'm Ellie," she told me. "Follow me." She led me down the hall and into a room. She instructed me to lie down, and I did just that. She pulled up a chair and sat beside the cot.

"Are we doing an ultrasound first?" I asked.

Ellie nodded, writing something down on the paper attatched to the clipboard. "Yes. We need to see if the baby is healthy first. Then we'll take a DNA sample from the baby and from each possible father. Now, I understand that one of them has passed away. So we'll be taking a sample from his mother, correct?"

"Yeah. My boyfriend will be here with the others any minute now," I explained.

"Good news. All right, let's take care of this ultrasound, shall we?"

I nodded, smirking. Taking a deep breath, I lifted up the bottom of my shirt slightly, revealing my stomach. Ultrasounds were always nerve-racking experiences during pregnancies; you never knew when something was going to go wrong. The nurses were just able to see that something wasn't working the way it should. I swallowed hard as Ellie swirled the cold blue gel around my stomach with the little wand that was attached to a monitor. As she did so, I saw Finn appear in the doorway, Mr. Schuester and Mrs. Puckerman standing behind him.

Ellie put down the wand and turned her head toward them. "You can go in the waiting room until we call you, if you'd like," she said sweetly. "We're doing the ultrasound now, just so see if the baby's okay."

"Actually, could I . . . stay in here?" Finn asked.

"Of course."

Finn turned on his heel to nod at Mr. Schuester and Mrs. Puckerman. Puck's mother went toward the waiting room, but Mr. Schue stood there and stared at Finn hopefully. I watched as, after a moment of complete silence, Finn motioned for Mr. Schue to follow him into the room. I swallowed. I'd really only expected Finn to be at my bedside for this, but that didn't mean I was going to kick Mr. Schue out. Finn stood right beside me and held my hand in between both of his. Mr. Schue stood at the foot of the bed.

"Here we go." Ellie used her skinny forefinger to point to the monitor. It looked strange. I'd seen many of these before, but I'd somehow forgotten how you could see the little movements of the baby, how it was still so small and not even close to fully developed at ten weeks. I looked up at Finn; he was grinning lopesidedly, staring right at the monitor. His eyes glazed over and his hands clamped mine tighter. Then my eyes moved to Mr. Schue, whose face lit up like a little kid on Christmas morning.

Ellie smirked. "There's one," she explained, pointing to a certain area on the screen, "and there's the other one."

My eyes widened. "Wait, what?"

"It's twins," Ellie said, looking at me.

Suddenly, the two men stopped smiling all together, and their eyes popped open.

"Twins?" Finn asked.

Ellie nodded.

Dryness stung my throat as I failed to swallow. It was twins? One baby caused enough drama as it was. It was official now: I was the biggest slut in the history of the town of Lima, Ohio. Once people found out that I was going to be a mother of three before I even graduated, I'd be screwed. I would have to face more taunting and name-calling than ever before. It was going to be a living hell. I looked down and closed my eyes, squeezing Finn's hand tighter. I angrily forced back my tears.

"It's gonna be okay," Finn murmured, kissing my hand.

I shook my head.

"Would you like to know the sexes?" Ellie asked.

In unison, Finn and Mr. Schue replied, "Yes."

I couldn't disagree with them. With my head still bowed and my eyes still closed, I nodded.

Ellie hesitated. I could sense that she was smiling as she said, "Two boys."

My eyes fluttered open. Two boys! Weren't boys harder to deal with than girls? And I'd wanted a girl after meeting Josie in the hospital weeks ago; I'd never forget about that adorable little girl. On the other hand, I'd have two sons. Two little boys that would play sports and beg for video games and be easier to deal with in the preteen years. I could picture two small, sweet-smelling figures swaddled in blue lying in my arms, sleeping soundly.

I hadn't even realized that I was smirking, my eyes wide. I blinked several times and looked up at Finn and Mr. Schue. "Are you happy?" I asked them, still smiling.

"Ecstatic," Mr. Schue responded.

"Totally," Finn agreed.

"Well, both babies are healthy," Ellie explained. "Now let's get to that paternity test, huh?"

* * *

I woke up on a soft, warm surface. My eyes still half-closed, I yawned and sat up, slightly unaware of what had happened before I'd dozed off. I observed my surroundings and found that I was not in Finn's bed, but instead Mr. Schue's. My brow puckered as I slipped off the mattress and dragged my feet toward the kitchen. From there, I could see into the living room, where Finn and Mr. Schue sat shoulder-to-shoulder on the couch. They were watching some football game on TV. I slowly approached them.

"When did I fall asleep?" I asked.

"You drifted on the way home from the hospital," Mr. Schue told me. "You just collapsed in the backseat and Finn left the key to his house at home, so the two of you need to wait for someone to come home first."

Finn smirked at me, shrugging.

"Did we get the paternity test done?" I questioned, sitting on the recliner chair.

"Yeah. It was weird." Finn shuddered at the memory.

"Well, at least it was done quickly. It definitely took a lot less time than I'd anticipated," Mr. Schue recalled.

I nodded. "So did we get the results?"

"It will take about a week, actually."

"Mr. Schue, where's your bathroom?" Finn asked suddenly, getting to his feet.

Mr. Schue pointed down the hall. "Straight through there."

Finn followed the teacher's directions to the bathroom. I relaxed in my seat and felt a weight being lifted off my chest. We were so much closer to finding out who the father of my babies were. It was a weird thing to think about. Weeks ago, I'd just been living contently, not worrying about anything. But I made three stupid mistakes in one week and it led to more confusion that I'd ever faced before. I seriously needed to invest in some birth control if I was going to keep living life as I was now. Even though Puck wasn't there to support me, I still had Finn and Will.

_Will_. It wasn't even weird when I called him that in my thoughts. _Will. Will_.

"So can I start calling you Will?" I asked.

Mr. Schue looked at me and shrugged. "Sure, if you want."

I grinned, nodding. "Cool."

Finn appeared in the room again, returning to his spot on the couch next to Will. I tugged at the hem of my T-shirt, humming. I was getting kind of bored listening to Finn and Will talk about the football game they were watching. I found my purse on the kitchen table and found my phone at the bottom with an unread text message. Mercedes had sent it at about six o'clock; it was seven-thirty now. It read: _sleepover at my house 2nite. glee club grls & kurt. be there by 8. :D_ I grinned. It would be good to start hanging out with my friends regularly again. I checked the time and noticed that if I went now, I'd be only half an hour early.

I went to the living room and said, "I'm going to Mercedes' house for the night. So, Finn, I need you to call me when your mom or Burt comes home so I can stop by to get my stuff."

Finn nodded absentmindedly. "Okay, yeah, will do."

Will looked at me. "And when he forgets to do that, I will."

I smiled and trekked out of the apartment, ready for a regular girls' night out. With Kurt.

* * *

_"I throw my hands up in the air sometimes,_  
_Saying, 'Ayo!'_  
_Gotta let go!_  
_I wanna celebrate and live my life,_  
_Saying, 'Ayo!'_  
_Baby, let's go!"_

As we sang the lyrics to _Dynamite_ by Taio Cruz, which blasted from the stereo in Mercedes' room, Mercedes held my hand and began painting my nails a pale pink color. Rachel was looking through all of Mercedes' CDs, searching for some theatre song I didn't catch the name of; when Rachel had asked Mercedes if she owned that certain song on a disc, Mercedes had replied, "It's in there somewhere. My mom gave it to me years ago, but I never listened to it." Santana flipped through two different magazines at once, ripping out pages with clothing items she liked. Brittany kept styling her hair crazily and then pulling it down straight again, trying to decide which chaotic 'do she would wear for the rest of the night. Kurt applied makeup to Tina's round face in an attempt to convince her that lighter colors would make her even more beautiful than she already was.

"I can honestly say that I thought I was going to have a terrible time tonight," Santana said as she tore out a magazine page with a short red dress on it. "But it's not that bad, I guess."

"The only other thing I had to do tonight was lounge on the couch and watch TV." Rachel searched through a stack of at least twenty CDs. "But I haven't been having a lot of morning sickness lately; I figured I'd be okay for tonight."

"Finn was supposed to get home and unlock the door for me," Kurt sighed, "but he ended up leaving the key inside the house. So I sat outside the locked door for at least a half hour before calling 'Cedes."

I smirked. "I was with Finn."

"Where'd you guys go when you couldn't get in the house?" Mercedes asked me.

I bit my lip. I couldn't tell them I'd gone to Mr. Schue's house; they'd suspect something, and all of the secrets would begin spilling out at once. And then I remembered that, since none of them, except for Kurt, knew that I was pregnant, they weren't aware of the fact that I'd been staying with Finn and Kurt. I lied smoothly, "Back to my house. Now Finn's with Mike."

"I just left Mike's house to come here," Tina said. "He didn't say anything about Finn coming over."

My heart starting beating faster as I shrugged slightly. "I'm just repeating what Finn told me."

Kurt cocked an eyebrow, but he stayed silent.

"Kurt looks suspicious," Tina noted, smirking. Santana laughed.

"Are you telling the truth, Quinn?" Mercedes asked, completing her work on my right hand. She picked up my left hand and began painting my fingernails. "Not that I don't believe you, but . . . all the pieces aren't fitting, you know."

"Yes, I'm telling the truth. I . . . don't know what Finn's doing if he isn't at Mike's."

Rachel looked at me, her eyes full of concern that wasn't necessary. I turned away from her sheepishly. Rachel left the CDs scattered across the floor and stood up, approaching the bed. "Mercedes, I can take over here, if you'd like."

Mercedes looked up at the abnormally short brunette. "Okay," she said, holding the nail polish out for Rachel to take. Mercedes stood up and crossed the room, and Rachel took her place sitting across from me on the bed. She went to pick up my hand, but I narrowed my eyes and pressed my palm against the paper towel that was there to prevent nail polish from dripping on Mercedes' bed. I didn't want her touching my hand. Rachel took over where Mercedes had left off.

"Could you turn the music up, please?" Rachel called over her shoulder. Mercedes stood from the floor where she sat with Tina and Kurt to turn up the volume on her stereo. She returned to her spot on the lavender carpet, helping Kurt put makeup on Tina.

"What's really going on?" Rachel murmured softly.

"What are you talking about?"

"You're obviously not telling the truth. Something is going on," Rachel observed. "I'd like it if you would tell me the truth."

I rolled my eyes. "Why would I do that?"

"Because I know now what it's like to be pregnant," Rachel whispered. I lifted my head slowly. She stared at me with those concerned eyes again. I sighed and shook my head.

"How'd you find out?" I asked quietly.

She shrugged. "I figured it out on my own. It wasn't too hard, now that I know it's easier to lie about everything when you don't want anyone to know what's really going on," she said simply. "When my dads ask how I'm feeling, I always tell them that I'm fine. But, truthfully, I'm never really fine. I just don't want them to worry about me or the baby. You get what I'm saying, right?"

"Yeah. I'm not an idiot."

"So who's the father?" Rachel questioned.

I bit my lip and shrugged. "Finn . . . or Puck . . . or, err, Mr. Schue."

Rachel raised her eyebrows at me.

"I had sex with them all," I muttered under my breath. "We went for the paternity test today. We won't get the results for at least another week."

"I'm sorry; I sort of lost focus when you said 'Puck.' And how did you get DNA from him if he's no longer . . . available?"

"His mother."

"Ah." Rachel nodded. Suddenly, her eyes widened. "Wait, _Mr. Schue_?"

"Yes. I'm not proud of it," I said, "but it's true. Just promise me you won't tell anyone about any of this."

"I won't," she promised. "How far along are you?"

"Ten weeks."

"Do you know the sex?"

"Two boys."

"It's twins?" She smiled. "Congratulations!"

"I already know that it's going to be really hard. It's twice the work of one baby!"

Rachel shrugged. "You can do it. I mean, you've got Finn's support, right?"

"Yeah, but what if he isn't the father?"

"Mr. Schue's still alive," Rachel chuckled.

I stared at her, and she stopped laughing abruptly, realizing what she'd just said.

_But Puck isn't!_ I wanted to scream in her face. Instead, I gnawned on my bottom lip and, again, comtemplated what it might be like to share a baby daddy with Rachel Berry. I fought back a cringe as Rachel finished painting my nails. I blew on them to get them dry, and Rachel returned to her spot on the floor, again looking for that damn Broadway musical song. I hoped she wouldn't find it; I didn't want to have to listen to her belting it out louder than the stereo played it.

"Uh, I . . . gotta go," Santana said suddenly, reading a text on her cell phone as she stood slowly. "It's kind of . . . an emergency."

"What is it?" Mercedes asked curiously as all of us turned to Santana.

The Latina sighed agitatedly, rushing to grab all of her things. "A . . . f-f-family thing. Don't worry; i-it's nothing."

I puckered my brow and looked out at everyone's confused faces. Brittany cocked her head to the side, giving Santana a meak, "Huh?"

"Don't worry about it, Britt. It doesn't involve you. Just stay here." Santana shoved a pile of clothes into her bag and gulped before leaving the room. I joined Kurt, Tina, and Mercedes in the middle of the floor.

"What was that all about?"

"Who knows?" Kurt sighed, putting the finishing touches on Tina's makeup.

I grinned, wide-eyed. "Wow, Tina! You look amazing!"

She smirked, her cheeks flushing red. "You think so?"

"Definitely." I observed the perfect blend of pink and silver on Tina's eyelids, her pink lips, and the rose-colored blush on her cheeks. She looked amazing, even prettier than she did regularly. "You should do your makeup like this every day."

"I've got it!" Rachel exclaimed, leaping to her feet. She eagerly yanked the disc from its case and shoved it into Mercedes' CD player. As it started to play, I realized I had no clue what it was. I sighed and shook my head, struggling to ignore Rachel's loud singing.

* * *

"But that's impossible! It can't . . . That just isn't . . . No!"

I shook my head dynamically, pressing my hands to either side of my head in an attempt to push away the headache that had rapidly approached. It had been a week since the paternity test, and the hospital finally knew who the father was. But the news Ellie had just given me was making me sick.

"It's very rare, but feasible," Ellie said.

I shook my head. "But . . . I don't understand how it can happen!"

"A male sperm cell can last up to seventy-two hours in a woman's body," Ellie explained. "As long as you had unprotected sexual intercourse with two men within that time, it's possible for sperm cells from the two different men to each create a baby. Thus, your twin boys have two different fathers. There aren't many known cases of this ever happening; you could go down in history with this, Quinn."

I felt my stomach begin to turn. "I've never heard of this in my life before," I said hoarsely.

"Like I said; it's very rare."

"This isn't happening," I muttered, dropping my face into my hands. "This can't be happening."

"This is something you're going to have to work through," Ellie said sympathetically, putting her hand on my shoulder.

I hadn't been planning this at all. I wasn't expecting anything like this to happen; it shouldn't have gone down like this. I'd thought that finding out the father of the babies was going to make my life so much easier. Instead, it made things a hell of a lot more confusing.

"What really sucks is that the only one who isn't a father is the one I was . . . kind of hoping for," I confessed, lifting my head.

Ellie crossed the room to sort out a mess of papers on the doctor's desk. "That Puckerman fellow?"

I nodded. "He's not here anymore, but I'll always have a special love for him," I murmured. "He's my first baby's father. I love Finn, too; he's my boyfriend, but he's honestly dumber than a box of rocks and still can't even grasp the concept of how a baby's made, exactly. And Will is my teacher. I can't even imagine what people at school are going to say. Nobody even knows I'm pregnant yet; wait until they find out about this."

"Ignore them." Ellie shrugged, straightening out a stack of papers. "Who cares what they say? You're you; it'll always be your own life."

I smiled at her. "Wow. You know, I've heard that all my life, but I never really took it to heart."

"It works well, I assure you." Ellie smirked.

I laughed. "Thanks for everything, Ellie. Now I've got to go straighten things out with Finn and Will. This ought to be fun."

"Good luck."

"Thanks again." I exited the office with a splitting headache; I needed to take aspirin when I got home. When I reached my car in the parking lot, my cell phone started ringing. I was getting a call from Mercedes.

"Hello?"

"Quinn!" Mercedes cried. "Quinn, it's Mercedes! You need to c-come meet us. We're at B-Britt's house, all of us. Come qu-quickly!"

"'Cedes, what's wrong?" I asked quickly, starting my car.

"Santana's dead."

* * *

**OOOOHHHH! Review!**


	11. Slushie

"What happened?" I asked as I burst through the door of Brittany's house. Finn approached me immediately, standing by my side. I didn't seem to notice him as I trudged forward, determined to find out everything I could. I watched as Santana's father struggled to console Mrs. Lopez, who was weeping into Mr. Lopez's shoulder and screaming in Spanish.

_"Quien es el hijo de puta enfermo que se llevo a mi hija de mi?" _she cried aloud. _"Voy a conseguir lo mato! Mi bebe Santana me necesitaba y yo no podia ayudarla!"_

"It wasn't your fault, _querido_," Mr. Lopez assured his wife in his thick Spanish accent. "You couldn't have done anything to save our Santana."

"I could have tried to figure out why she was always running out of the house!" Mrs. Lopez screamed.

As their fight continued, I approached Mercedes, Rachel, Tina, and Kurt, who all sat in a line on the couch. Each of them had tears running down their faces. "What happened to Santana?" I demanded.

"She hooked up with some college guy. He wouldn't leave her alone after that," Tina explained.

"She was afraid of him," Mercedes said, "so she had to do everything he said. She started . . . cutting herself because she thought it hurt less."

"Eventually, it all got to be too much for her." Rachel took a deep breath. "Her parents found her hanging by a rope tied around her neck from the top bar on their shower."

I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand. "How do you know so much?"

"She left a note for her family," Kurt murmured.

I could never imagine Santana killing herself. She was strong, maybe one of the strongest people I knew. She could get through anything. Some loser college guy took her life away from her. I felt myself crying, and Finn's arms were around me in less than a second. I hugged him back and cried into his chest.

"It's okay," Finn breathed. "Don't cry."

"It's not okay. It's not," I wept.

_"Je hield niet van haar, Brittany," _Mrs. Pierce insisted in Dutch as she and Brittany entered the living room. Brittany was right on her mother's heels. There were tears flowing down her cheeks, and she was frowning terribly. She sat down right next to Mrs. Pierce on the loveseat.

"Yes, I did," Brittany said simply, nodding. "Only she didn't love me back."

I lifted my head, and my eyes flickered from Mr. and Mrs. Lopez's argument in Spanish to Brittany and her mother's in Dutch. I was glad that one person in each fight was speaking in English so I knew what they were talking about. Finn still had one arm around my waist, and he pulled me across the room. I looked to see Will standing there, waiting. My heart started beating faster.

"You got the results today, right?" Will asked.

I nodded slowly.

"I don't think we should know until later," Will sighed. "There's so much shit going on at the moment; I think we should hold off for just a little bit longer."

I swallowed hard, blinking. As I nodded, I turned away from them and walked toward the only unoccupied seat in the entire living room. I perched on the edge of the chair and watched Mike wheel Artie's chair toward the bathroom. Both of them nodded at me as they passed. I closed my eyes in an attempt to block out everyone else, folded my hands on my lap, and let myself sob. Santana and I had had an ongoing rivalry in trying to become head cheerleader, but that didn't mean I hated her. I didn't particulary like her at all, but she hadn't given me a reason to hate her so much I'd want her dead.

"She's okay now, you know. She's up there with Puck."

I kept my eyes closed and knew Rachel was going to sit on the arm of the loveseat diagonally across from me. When I opened my eyes, I realized I'd been right.

I looked down. "I know."

"Being Jewish, my views of Hell are much different than yours," Rachel said softly. "Even so, I don't believe that either of them are in Hell."

I swallowed hard.

Rachel shrugged. "This is something we're all just going to have to deal with."

I ignored her. Finn walked over and began talking to Rachel. Usually, I'd be horribly jealous and jump into the conversation, thinking of an excuse to drag Finn away. But I really didn't care at the moment. Refraining from rolling my eyes, I noticed Mike standing alone in the middle of the kitchen. I remembered that he'd sung about how he had a secret crush on Santana, which he'd had to work through with Tina. I stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching as Mike hunched over the sink, staring out the window.

"Mike?"

He brought his hands to his eyes and rubbed them vigorously before turning around. His dark almond-shaped eyes were irritated. His hair was all messed up, and his nose was red. He was wearing a pair of faded blue jeans and a plan white T-shirt, a typical outfit for him, but he seemed to look a lot different in them at the moment.

"Um. Hey, Q," he croaked.

I stepped toward him slowly. "Have you been crying?"

He didn't answer. He only stared at me, his lips in a tight line.

"It's okay. Everyone's crying. You don't need to be ashamed." I put my hand on his arm. "Just because you're a guy doesn't mean you have to hide your emotions; nobody's going to judge you."

Mike sighed, shaking his head. "I liked Santana," he murmured. "I really did."

"I know," I breathed, running my hand up his arm, putting it on his shoulder. "It's a sad thing to have to think about. But she's better off now."

"We could have helped her, though. If we'd actually taken the time to talk to her and ask her if there was anything bothering her, we would have known that there was someone hurting her and making her feel uncomfortable," Mike whispered, squeezing his eyes shut. "Finn and I would have beat the shit out of him."

It had always been Finn, Puck, Mike, and Matt that wanted to beat people up together. But with both Puck and Matt gone, Finn and Mike were going to have to do all the fighting on their own. "There was nothing we could to," I assured Mike. "She wouldn't have told us anything. She isn't suffering anymore now, at least. She'll be happier up there."

Mike nodded slowly. I hugged him consolingly. He inhaled shakily, alerting me that he was, in fact, crying. I started crying again, too, and we both just stood there in the middle of the Pierce family's kitchen, hugging and sobbing together.

"Thanks, Q," Mike whispered, pulling away from our hug. "You're the best."

I grinned up at him. His smile quickly faded, and he leaned down to kiss me. I gasped under his lips, my eyes widening. Quickly, I pulled away and shook my head, staring at the floor.

"I . . . I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't . . . mean . . ."

"What the fuck was that?"

Mike and I, both taken by surprise, turned toward the doorway of the kitchen to see the source of the angry booming voice. I wanted to die when I saw that it was Finn, standing with his shoulders squared, glaring at Mike. Out of everyone in the entire house, it had to be Finn that walked in on the moment Mike took things too far. The two of us instinctively stepped away from each other until we were at least five feet apart. Finn crossed the room and stood in between Mike and me, glancing back and forth between us.

"You saw me talking to Rachel so you decided cheat on me?" Finn growled.

"What? No!"

Finn's eyes darkened and he pointed to Mike. "You just _kissed_ him!"

"No, he kissed me!" I defended.

"Yeah, right!" Finn spun on his heel to face Mike. "What the _fuck _is your deal, Chang?"

"Look, man, I'm sorry," Mike said, backing away with his palms in the air. "She was just trying to make me feel better, and I . . . got carried away."

"I don't want to hear it! I thought we were friends, dude!" Finn hissed, shoving Mike hard. As the shorter boy dusted himself off, Finn turned to face me again. "And I thought you loved me! I thought you _meant _it when you said we were together!"

"I did mean it - no, I _do_!" I yelled, crying harder. "I love you, Finn! Nothing is going on between Mike and me!"

Finn shook his head. "I don't believe this," he grumbled. "We're done." He brushed past me and strode toward the other room.

"You and Will are both the fathers," I called after him, blood pulsing swiftly through my veins as I did so. After a few moments, Finn slowly stepped back into the kitchen. He kept his distance and stood tall, his brow furrowed.

"What?"

"I didn't think it was possible," I sobbed. "You're the father of one twin, and Will is the father of the other."

Finn processed my words in his head. After a while, he shook his head vigorously and exited the kitchen once again. I heard the front door of the house open and slam shut. A sob escaped my lips as I turned to face Mike, who watched me with apologetic eyes. I ignored him when he said my name and trekked out into the living room. Almost all eyes were on me.

Mrs. Lopez scoffed. _"Santana tenia razon," _she grumbled to Mr. Lopez under her breath. _"Esa chica es una puta."_

I had no clue was Santana's mother had just said, but I knew she had insulted me, and I'd learned enough Spanish in Will's class to pick out "Santana was right." Angrily, I followed in Finn's tracks and stormed out of the house, but I wasn't going to go anywhere. I sat on the front steps and wondered why God had to take Puck and Santana away from everyone who loved them. Sure, they hadn't made the best choices in life sometimes. But that didn't mean they deserved to have their lives taken from them so cruelly. Why couldn't I have died instead? I'd made equally terrible mistakes, if not worse.

Suddenly, Will came out of the house and sat down next to me. "What happened with Finn?" he asked.

"Nothing," I murmured, looking away.

"I heard what you yelled to him," Will whispered. "Everyone did." He looked right at my face. "Both of us are fathers?"

I bit my lip.

"I didn't even think that could happen," he said.

"Me, either. Ellie said I could go down in history when people find out," I explained.

"There are no secrets anymore." Will folded his hands together. "Everybody knows now."

"What did Mrs. Lopez call me back there?" I asked, turning to look at him. He stared into my eyes, but soon closed his and looked away, shaking his head.

"Nothing. She didn't mean it."

"No, seriously. I want to know," I whispered.

Will scratched his ear, hesitating. "Uh . . . Well, she specifically said, 'Santana was right. That girl is . . . a whore.'"

I nodded. I'd expected that. Will sighed and told me it wasn't true. I just nodded again, not wanting to agree with or deny his statement. We sat there in silence for a few moments, watching birds fly across the sky as clouds drifted past them. It would have been a beautiful and peaceful day out, had it not turned out to be so miserable and terrifying and treacherous.

Will looked up at the sky. "I am so screwed."

"Why?" I asked, turning toward him.

"You should have seen the looks everyone was giving me," he breathed. "I think both of our lives are about to become equally difficult."

I wanted to deny that, to insist that my life would be a lot harder. But I just stayed silent and watched a thin white cloud float across the blue sky. I wondered if Puck and Santana had witnessed everything that had happened that day.

* * *

I swallowed, my throat stinging as I entered Glee Club. I was the last one there, which was perfect; I didn't want to have to sit down and then stand back up once everyone had come. I approached Will right away, who was straightening a pile of papers. He turned to look at me, and his brow puckered.

"Quinn, are you okay?" he asked when he noticed my teary eyes.

I nodded. "Yeah. I-I-I have a song prepared, and I was wondering if I could, um, sing it for everyone."

"Sure, of course," Will replied. He turned on his heel to face everyone. "Quiet down, guys. Quinn has prepared a song for us." He patted me on the shoulder. "Whenever you're ready," he said, and went to sit down next to Finn.

I took a deep breath as I handed a pile of sheet music to Brad. He started passing it out to the band, and I faced the rest of the club. "I found this song last night, and I was just in awe because it fit our situation so well. It literally made my jaw drop for about a half-hour. I spent time learning all of the words, and I just thought I'd sing it, since it so crazily relates to what's happened." I cleared my throat and began to sing.

_"She spent the night out  
__With a guy who  
Gives attention  
When she cries herself to sleep,_  
_I heard her say._  
_So she gives him  
What he wants,_  
_As long as  
He can make her feel okay._  
_But she's not okay."_

I bit my lip briefly, staring at the ground as I thought of Santana.

_"And we avoid the topics._  
_We make the kids have secrets._  
_And when they are exposed,_  
_And everyone else knows,_  
_We say we never knew it,_  
_That they had a problem._  
_'Cause if we would have known,_  
_We surely would have solved it._  
_But we can't;_  
_It's too late._  
_I said we can't._  
_It's too late."_

I was hesitant to sing about Puck, but I let my silent tears fall and swallowed hard, beginning the next verse.

_"He's skipping classes  
'Cause he hates them._  
_Hopes he passes,_  
_Not to take them all again,_  
_I heard him say._  
_He escapes them  
With the pills,_  
_The ones he takes  
To make him feel like he's okay._  
_But he's not okay."_

My eyes slowly lifted upward, and I took in the mournful and terrified expressions of my fellow gleeks.

_"And we avoid the topics._  
_We make the kids have secrets._  
_And when they are exposed,_  
_And everyone else knows,_  
_We say we never knew it,_  
_That they had a problem._  
_'Cause if we would have known,_  
_We surely would have solved it._  
_But we can't;_  
_It's too late._  
_I said we can't._  
_It's too late."_

Rachel was bawling. Finn took on a pained expression, facing away from everyone. Kurt and Mercedes held each other's hands tightly, looking down as they cried. Tina clung to Mike, crying as well; she was unaware that Mike had kissed Quinn still. Artie's jaw clenched. Brittany stared at her feet. Will had tears forming in his eyes.

_"God, You've got to save us._  
_We hide behind the faces that we make  
To disguise  
The things that we're ashamed of,_  
_And all the ugly things that make us close  
Our eyes._  
_They make us close our eyes._  
_Why do we close our eyes?"_

My hand met my stomach, and I clutched at the fabric of my shirt, struggling to sing through my sobs.

_"And we avoid the topics._  
_We make the kids have secrets._  
_And when they are exposed,_  
_And everyone else knows,_  
_We say we never knew it,_  
_That they had a problem._  
_'Cause if we would have known,_  
_We surely would have solved it."_

My eyes burned. I crossed the room and sat in the corner. Everybody stared straight ahead, not bothering to look at anyone else's weeping faces. Suddenly, Will clapped his hands together, releasing everyone from their trance. The rest of the club applauded as well, but only softly. Will rubbed his eyes and went up to the piano, his back facing us for a moment. Then he turned back around, nodding at me.

"That was great, Quinn," he said hoarsely. "You did a good job. And that song was extremely relatable."

I nodded slowly.

"We should all have the courage to stand up and sing what you're feeling when a tragedy has plagued us," Will said loudly.

Finn's hand shot in the air suddenly. "I can do that," he spat. "I'll have a number prepared tomorrow."

Will shrugged. "All right. We're looking forward to it, Finn."

I couldn't help but wonder what Finn was feeling. What was he going to sing about? Mike had kissed me only the night before, so Finn was still really pissed. I wondered when Tina and the rest of the school would find out. Until then, I was going to have to try to make up with Finn; maybe not get back together with him, but at least make friends and try to get along. For the sake of the babies. Well, technically, _baby_, since only one of them was his.

"That musical number was great, Quinn."

I looked up to see Kurt standing over me, his bag over his shoulder. He half-smiled, his eyes still red and cheeks still tear-stained.

"Thanks," I whispered. I looked around and saw that everyone was filing out of the room. Will must have dismissed us all early while I zoned out.

"How did you find a piece of music that fit what happened to Puck and Santana so well?" Kurt asked as I stood up. "I mean, Santana was dating a guy who led her to do what she did, and Puck was doing drugs. It's amazing."

I shrugged. "It was in my iTunes library. It's called _Topics_ by Nevertheless. I only listened to it twice, though."

Kurt chuckled. "Every song on my iTunes has been played at least a hundred times each," he told me.

I giggled. He hooked arms with me, and we walked down the hall together. It was nice to know I had a friend who would bring me into their home when I needed someplace to stay, someone I could tell my secrets to and get support from. As Kurt led me through the hall proudly, Karofsky and Azimio barrelled toward us. I hadn't even noticed the tall cups in their hands until I felt the ice slap against my face. Kurt and I stopped dead in our tracks, gasping at the sting the slush left on our skin. The two football Neanderthals laughed as they walked down the hall, high-fiving. I wiped the red ice away from my eyes and watched people chuckle at Kurt and me as we stood in the middle of the hallway, dumbfounded. Suddenly, Kurt grabbed my hand and pulled me into the girls' bathroom.

"Those two are idiots," he muttered, turning the sink on. He wet his hands and washed away the slush on his face. Then he stepped back and motioned for me to lean over the sink. "Here; put your hair under the water."

I did just that, bending over with my eyes squeezed shut. I let Kurt run his fingers through my hair. He pulled out all of the sticky cherry-flavored gunk that was rapidly melting and rushing down the drain of the sink. When my hair was free of slush ten minutes later, I lifted my head and opened my eyes, rubbing my face. Kurt had pulled a dish rag out of his bag and was holding it out toward me. It might have been too small to dry my hair with, but I would have to make do. I took it from him and began ringing out the blond strands with the towel. Kurt was washing his own hair now.

"Why did they slushie me?" I asked quietly.

Kurt picked up his head and I handed him the towel. He started drying his hair as he said, "Everyone knows you're pregnant now, Quinn. Rumors spread like wildfire in this school; it's not surprising that everyone knows after only a day."

"But only the Glee Club was there yesterday," I reminded Kurt. "Somebody must have spread it around. Does everyone know who both of the dads are?"

"I don't think so," Kurt breathed. "I heard a lot of people gossiping about you being pregnant earlier this morning, but none of them mentioned twins or Finn or Mr. Schue at all."

"Everyone knows about Rachel's baby," I grumbled, my voice rising, "but they're not talking so much about her!"

"That's because you already had a baby. Plus, you were back on top after Beth's birth." Kurt leaned over the sink so he could be closer to the mirror as he fixed his always-perfectly-sculpted hair. "Rachel, on the other hand, was never really popular like you."

I shrugged. "Yeah, I guess." I shoved my face in my hands, knowing this was only the beginning.


	12. Bus

****

Summary So Far:

**This chapter is dedicated to my wonderful RPG family, YWYCBPOOF; you know why. :D**

* * *

"So, Finn," Will called as everyone settled down in their seats in Glee Club, "do you have that musical number prepared?"

"Yes." Finn and Will switched spots. Finn handed a piece of sheet music to Brad and each member of the band. He began tapping his foot to the beat. He was frowning angrily. His brow puckered. His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he looked up with dark, narrowed eyes.

_"Educated with money._  
_He's well-dressed, not funny._  
_And not much to say in_  
_Most conversations,_  
_But he'll put the bill in_  
_All situations_  
_'Cause he pays for everything."_

He started stepping into his horribly executed dance moves, but I was more focused on the lyrics of the song and the sinister expression on Finn's face.

_"Girls don't like boys;_  
_Girls like cars and money._  
_Boys will laugh at girls_  
_When they're not funny."_

He glared at me briefly, and then turned to the rest of the club. I raised my eyebrows.

_"Paper or plastic._  
_Don't matter; she'll have it._  
_Vacations and shopping sprees._  
_These are a few of her favorite things._  
_She'll get what she wants_  
_If she's willing to please._  
_His type of girl_  
_Always comes with a fee._  
_Hey, now, there's nothing for free."_

This time, he stared straight at me when he sang.

_"Girls don't like boys;_  
_Girls like cars and money._  
_Boys will laugh at girls_  
_When they're not funny._  
_And these girls like these boys_  
_Like these boys like these girls._  
_The girls with the bodies_  
_Like boys with Ferraris._  
_Girls don't like boys;_  
_Girls like cars and money."_

As part of the song, Finn shouted, _"Let's go!" _He danced along with the instrumental part of the song, and soon called out, _"Hey, hey!" _Finally, he strode toward me and hovered over me. My eyes widened and I glanced at the rest of the club. Will's eyebrows began climbing toward his gel-lathered hairline. Finn's brow furrowed as he sang right in my face.

_"Girls don't like boys;_  
_Girls like cars and money._  
_Boys will laugh at girls_  
_When they're not funny._  
_And these girls like these boys_  
_Like these boys like these girls._  
_The girls with the bodies_  
_Like boys with Ferraris._  
_Girls don't like boys;_  
_Girls like cars and money."_

He slowly backed away and his voice began fading as he sang.

_"All of these boys and all of these girls_  
_Losing their souls in a material world._  
_All of these boys and all of these girls_  
_Losing their souls in a material world._  
_All of these boys and all of these girls_  
_Losing their souls in a material world._  
_All of these boys and all of these girls."_

Finn mock-punched the air in triumph, victoriously plodding back to his seat to switch with Will. The teacher applauded slowly, along with the rest of the club. I didn't clap; my hands clutched the edges of my chair. My mouth was open and my eyes were still wide. I couldn't believe Finn would sing something like that in front of the entire club, letting them all know that Finn hated me and thought I was a complete bitch. Will started saying something, but I wasn't paying attention.

After Glee, I approached Kurt quickly. "I don't think I can stay at your house anymore," I said quietly. "Last night was awkward enough; I don't think I can go through that for the next nine months and more."

Kurt nodded. "I understand. But where will you go?"

"Don't worry about it," I said. "I've got somewhere to stay. I'll just come by and pick up my stuff later."

"All right." Kurt patted me on the shoulder before leaving the choir room. Heaving out a sigh, I entered Will's office, not bothering to knock on the door before I did. He looked up from the Spanish papers he was grading.

"Hi, Quinn," he greeted me.

"Hey," I sighed. "So Finn's really pissed at me, if you couldn't already tell. The thing is . . . I'm currently staying with him and Kurt and their parents, and I don't think I can deal with living in the same house as Finn for much longer. Do you think I could stay with you for a few days until I find somewhere more permanent to go?"

Will put his pen down and folded his hands atop his desk, staring at me with concerned eyes. "You can stay with me for as long as you need to. I'm the father of one of those babies, Quinn, and I fully intend on being there for you and for him."

I smiled. "Thanks."

* * *

When I stepped into school the next morning, my heart sank. I watched as Finn's large hand gripped Rachel's and they walked down the hall toward me. Finn eyed Rachel's stomach, and so did she; they must have been talking about her baby. Then they looked at each other and smiled, brushing past me without even acknowleding my presence. My eyes followed them until they turned the corner and were completely out of my line of vision. I sighed heavily and plodded to my first class.

As the day progressed on, I observed Finn and Rachel getting closer and closer to each other. I scrunched up my nose in disgust and tried my best to ignore them during Glee. I couldn't seem to push aside the fact that they kept smiling at each other. Finn was forgetting about me now; he truly loved Rachel, I guessed, so I'd have to do my best to accept that fact. I swallowed hard and focused on Will as he described how, exactly, to express yourself in song.

"Take Finn as an example," he said, gesturing toward the suddenly-lovestruck boy. "He sang a song that showed exactly how he's feeling currently. That's what I want you all to do if you can't express your feelings any other way."

Finn lifted one corner of his mouth into a half-smile, blushing and flashing a quick glance at Rachel.

"So that's your assignment this week," Will sighed. "Whatever you're feeling, take that and find a song that explains it. I expect all of your performances to be ready by Friday."

"Mr. Schue, do I have to prepare a number?" Finn asked. "You know, since I already sang yesterday?"

Will grinned. "Yes, Finn, you still need to sing something."

After Will dismissed us, I leaned down to gather my books from under my chair. Everyone else was already out of the room; only Rachel and I were still remaining. I watched as one hand moved to her stomach as the other clutched her books to her chest. I would never admit it, but I felt the slightest bit of envy for her; she was pregnant with Puck's child. I wanted to be the one having his baby. Maybe things would be better in my life if I had been.

Before Rachel left the room, I called to her, "Rachel, wait."

She turned to look at me. "Yes?"

I approached her slowly. "I'm just wondering . . . When were you with Puck? What happened?"

"It was the day before he died," Rachel explained. "I went outside during lunchtime and I saw him sitting under the bleachers. I began to wonder why he wasn't in school, so I decided to talk to him. He wouldn't tell me anything that was wrong. Then he started to tell me that he wanted to make you jealous. I wasn't up for doing anything like that, but he began to get into my head. He said that if I helped him out, it would also make Finn jealous, and that Finn would want me back. He kept bringing up good reasons, and I . . . I just couldn't resist. We were only planning on kissing and talking to each other in front of you and Finn, but next thing I knew . . ." She shook her head, staring blankly ahead of her in remembrance. "He took my virginity right there under the bleachers, and then ran off. He died the next day, and the night before the funeral, I found out I was pregnant."

I bit my lip, swallowing hard. "I'm . . . sorry."

"I should be the one saying sorry to you," Rachel said softly. "I shouldn't have done what I did. I was being selfish; I only wanted Finn for myself, even if that meant hurting you in the process."

"It's okay. Puck wouldn't have anything to do with me, anyway. The babies are everyone's _but_ his," I reminded Rachel.

"I'm sure he'd feel guilty afterward," she said. "He truly loved you, Quinn. I was just another hook-up for him. But now I'm having his baby, and it'll be the only thing left of him."

I shrugged. "I guess. So . . . are you with Finn now?"

Rachel shook her head. "We've admitted our feelings for each other already," she explained, "but we've both decided that there's way too much baby drama right now. We're going to try dating when the two of you make up."

I nodded.

"We should go now." Rachel waited for me, and we walked side-by-side through the hall. It wasn't something I'd usually do with her, but there was no reason not to right now. When we got into the parking lot, we saw Will walking to his old, beat-up blue car. Kids still swarmed the pavement, and buses were pulling out of the lot. Rachel called Will's name. Startled, he spun on his heel to see who'd called him. Rachel and I waved. Will smiled, lifting his hand to wave.

But he was stopped when a big yellow school bus drove right into him.

I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand. Rachel started sobbing right away. I looked around frantically at everyone's terrified expressions. Nobody moved or said anything. The bus had turned off, and kids on the bus had their faces pressed against the glass to see what was going on. Finally, a group of football guys ran to pull Will out of the way of the bus. The young driver opened the door of the bus, his mouth and eyes wide. Everyone else stayed frozen in their spots.

"Call nine-one-one!" someone shrieked. I couldn't move. I was absolutely horrified. Someone volunteered to call, and they did so. Rachel cried audibly, and she leaned on my shoulder to do so. I didn't care. My wide, unblinking eyes stayed glued to the football jocks huddling over Will's limp body. My heart was pounding against my chest. It seemed as if everyone was dying; all my friends and the people I loved were being taken from me one by one. Who would be next? Finn? Mike? Rachel? The babies?

I gulped, waiting for something to happen. All of a sudden, everything was moving in fast-forward. Almost every person in the lot seemed to move from their spots on the ground; the initial shock had to have worn off for them. They joined the football jocks in trying to wake up our beloved teacher, but I, even from across the lot, knew that he was dead. He wasn't going to be revived. Nobody in my life ever was.


	13. Friends

**This one is pretty short. :) Enjoy!**

**Summary So Far: **Quinn is having twins, two boys. Her biggest problem is that they have two different fathers: Will and Finn. She feels that her life is falling apart. Mike kissed her in front of Finn, earning herself a heartbreaking breakup scene where everyone could hear the secret of her pregnancy being revealed. Puck and Santana have both died. She's living with Will, but while distracted by Rachel and Quinn, Will got hit by a bus. Quinn knows he isn't making it out alive.

* * *

"He's gone."

I nodded. "I knew it."

"Would you like to see him?" Ellie asked softly.

I shook my head. "No, thank you. I think I'll just go now," I sighed. I shook Ellie's hand and exited the hospital, feeling strange. I felt like I should cry, but there were no tears I could feel welling up in my body. Maybe I wanted to scream; my throat seemed to close at the thought. I bit my bottom lip as I climbed into the driver's seat of my car.

I ended up pulling into the parking lot of McKinley High when I realized I had no place to go. My things were still at Will's house, but I wasn't about to stay in his house by myself.

I got out of the car and entered the building, pulling my jacket around myself for extra warmth. It was almost eight o'clock, and I was surprised that nobody had locked the doors of the school; it was so easy for someone to rob the place. I looked around cautiously as I moved through the dim, quiet hallways. Soon, I heard the sound of someone weeping very softly. My brow puckered as I strained my ears to hear better. The source of the sound became unmistakable then, and I heard a very familiar consoling voice, too.

I followed the voices and found myself in the choir room, only to find Rachel sitting on the piano bench, crying into her hands. As expected, Finn was kneeling down beside her, trying to comfort her. He glanced at me, and then turned his attention back to Rachel.

I took a slow step forward. "Rachel, are you okay?"

She looked up at me. "We killed Mr. Schuester, Quinn," she cried.

"No, we didn't," I insisted, shaking my head.

"We distracted him. We waved and he turned and couldn't know that bus was coming. . . ." She trailed off, heavy sobs racking her body. Finn hugged her closer toward himself.

"You've got to calm down," I breathed, sitting on my knees on Rachel's other side. "You don't want to cause any harm to the baby by being all stressed like this." I wasn't sure if being stressed _could_ do damage to the baby, but I knew that I wanted Rachel to shut the hell up.

Rachel nodded, wiping her tears away. "You're right," she said shakily, taking a deep breath. "I do need to calm down. I don't want to harm Jonas."

"Jonas?" I asked, and as I did, I realized she was referring to her baby.

"Yes; Jonas. I believe that this baby is a boy and I'm going to name him Jonas Ezra," Rachel explained. "I've decided that he is, in fact, going to have Noah's last name, since he will be Noah's flesh and blood."

I nodded. I didn't want to feed into the conversation and let Rachel keep talking, but Jonas Ezra Puckerman—even being a total Jewish name—was pretty cute, and I could imagine a tan-skinned little boy with hazel eyes named Jonas rocking a Mohawk while singing phenomenally.

"I'd like for you to take me home now," Rachel said to Finn, looking up at the tall boy.

Finn nodded, half-smiling. "Go wait in the car; I'll be there in a second."

Rachel nodded, trekking out of the choir room. I looked at Finn and waited.

"Where are you staying?" he asked me.

"As of right now," I sighed, "nowhere."

He twiddled his thumbs awkwardly. "You should . . . come back to my place, then. I'll, um, actually take the couch instead of sharing a bed with you. And . . ." He looked up at me. "It's kinda weird not having you there. So you can, you know, get your stuff from Mr. Schue's place, and then just come to my house."

I wanted to run up and hug him, crying happily into his chest. But we weren't dating anymore, and he was still mad at me. I nodded, smiling as if to thank him. He turned toward the doorway and gestured or me to walk with him. We loped slowly down the hall, shoulder-to-shoulder.

"You and Rachel still aren't dating, huh?" I looked up at him slowly.

Finn stared at the ground and shook his head.

"Do you love her?" I asked.

"I don't know," he replied a shrug. "I really like her, but . . . I just don't know."

I nodded. "She talks about you a lot. Besides the baby, you're basically her favorite subject."

"Cool." He grinned. "Do you think she'll let me help raise the baby?"

I swallowed, and my stomach twisted into a strange knot. I tried to answer but stammered ineptly. Finally, I managed to respond, "Well, sure. But what about _our_ son?"

"He'll be my total responsibility still. I'm not just gonna abandon you, Quinn. And I'm not gonna leave the twins, either," he said casually. "Even the one that's not mine."

Will flashed into my mind for a split second, but I pushed the thought away.

"So . . . have you thought about any names you might like yet?" I asked to break the awkward silence that was rapidly approaching.

He shrugged. "Not really," he admitted. "I just thought you'd want to make the final decision."

"That doesn't mean I'm not open to any suggestions."

Before I knew it, we were out in the parking lot. Finn stood in front of me, probably debating how he should say goodbye. He wasn't going to hug or kiss me, but it seemed totally weird to high-five or shake hands. So he just waved, grinning lopsidedly as he turned to plod toward his car. I went to my own car, pulling my cell phone out of my purse when I heard it vibrate. It was a text message from Finn, and it read: _i think nick is a cool name_.

I smiled.

* * *

The next day, I entered Glee Club, and Rachel motioned for me to come sit next to her. At first I stood in the middle of the room, staring at her with my brow furrowed. She wanted me to sit next to her? Why would I want to do that? Finn wasn't even there yet. She smiled friendlily, patting the empty red chair next to her. Slowly, I approached and she moved her hand to let me sit. When I did, she continued to smile widely, but I stared at her casually, raising my eyebrows as if to say, "What do you want?"

Her smile softened slightly. "I thought you'd like to sit with me because . . . well . . ." She shrugged. "I thought we were sort of friends now. And I figured we can help each other out with our pregnancies. It would really have a positive impact on me, Quinn, because you've gone through it before." Rachel's smile widened once again. She held her hand out. "So, what do you say? Friends?"

I bit my bottom lip. Before Beth existed, the thought of being friends with Rachel Berry never even crossed my mind; it had been too repulsive to even think about. But now she wasn't so bad. And as that thought came to mind, I knew that I had—no doubt about it—changed as a person.

I shook her hand, a smile playing at the corners of my mouth. "Friends."


End file.
